The Space Between
by milk3002
Summary: Deals with what happened between the rescue at the reservoir and Maura's coming home. Episode 3x2. Rizzles
1. Aftermath

**The Space Between**

**Disclaimer: Rizzoli & Isles and all of its parts belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT.**

**A/N: A quick piece written during my lunch break that addresses the time between the rescue at the reservoir and Maura's coming home.**

Jane sloshed through the onslaught of rushing water, catching up with Korsak and tossing Maura's other limp arm around her shoulder. Despite the chill of the air, the medical examiner's skin was hot to the touch, and Jane felt fear slice through her. After Maura passed out, she had continued as directed, slicing the other side of the her thin leg and massaging it until the blood flowed, thick and black. She had tied the wound as best she could, but it had quickly been saturated, and the way she had been handled by the gunmen hadn't helped matters.

"I didn't want to go swimming," Maura slurred. "Who swims in toxic water…"

Korsak glanced at Jane over the top of Maura's lolling head. "Luckily, no one's going swimming," he said, raising his eyebrows. "How much blood has she lost?"

"I can lose up to 2,000 milliliters before going into stage four hypovolemic shock," Maura replied, her words sliding into each other.

"Well, we won't let you lose that much," Jane offered as she glimpsed Korsak's patrol car coming into view just up a small incline. She had never been so happy to see a dilapidated BPD-issued vehicle in her life.

"Jane's strong," Maura said, lilting her head up toward Korsak as they struggled to conquer the hill, the medical examiner's good leg starting to drag.

"Maura, just a little more to go," Jane said encouragingly. "Just up the hill."

"Are we exercising?" Maura mumbled. "I love to exercise." Her head lolled backwards. "My leg likes to exercise."

"Your leg will keep exercising, Maur, don't worry," Jane assured her, glancing down at the t-shirt that wrapped the wound. It was now a deep, red black, with crimson streaks marring Maura's ankle.

Korsak ducked out from under Maura's arm as they came to a halt beside the car, and he yanked open the back door of the car.

"Okay, Maur," Jane said, easing her onto the seat before elevating her leg as best as she could. "Here we go. Camping trip is over."

"Noooo," Maura called, her voice low, but then seemingly changed her mind. "Yesssss."

Jane slid in beside her, pulling Maura against her and the blonde immediately let her head fall into her chest. "I think we've had enough camping," Jane said as the car rumbled to life underneath them, the siren suddenly blaring into the silence and causing both she and Maura to jump. She glared up at Korsak. "We're in the middle of nowhere, Korsak, you want to save that for when we get on the road?"

Korsak shrugged, flipping it off, the headlights illuminating their way along the gravel road toward the guard station. Jane glanced down at Maura, who had become suddenly quiet. Her eyes were open, but they widened with some newly felt fear, prompting Jane to give her midsection a comforting squeeze. "It's okay, Maur," she said, brushing the damp hair off her forehead.

"What if I get necrotizing fascitis?" Maura whispered.

"You're not going to get necrotizing fascitis," Jane replied, unsure of what the condition was, but nevertheless hoping for the best.

"Flesh-eating bacteria," Maura said. "My biggest fear. It slowly eats the muscle tissue, rendering your limbs useless. This is prime breeding ground for it."

"Maura, you're not going to get necro...fertilizer...itis," Jane said uncertainly. "I washed my shirt the other day, it's completely clean. No bacteria anywhere. Besides, I didn't saw through your leg with a piece of glass just to have you lose it." She heard Korsak groan from the front seat, locking eyes with her, but he said nothing, instead pressing harder onto the gas as they turned onto the main road.

"Okay," Maura replied, her dazed tone light compared to Jane's own shaky voice.

"Hospital's about fifteen minutes away," Korsak said, peering around at them. "You okay?" he asked Jane, and by the glint of his eye, she knew he meant more than physically.

"Yeah," she said with a nod, glancing down at Maura, whose eyes were fluttering slowly as she tried to stay conscious. "We're okay. Right, Maur?"

"We're always okay," she murmured in reply, prompting an anxious smile from Jane.

She kept talking to Maura, not only to keep the blonde awake, but to keep her own fear from clogging her throat. The responses she got, however, kept getting fainter and less intelligible, and Jane tapped a free hand nervously against the back of Korsak's seat. "How much longer?" she asked, hoping to keep the anxiety from her voice. As a cop, she prided herself on being cool under pressure, but after the events of the day, she was having trouble keeping her wits about her.

"Seven minutes," he said, offering nothing more, instead focusing on the road.

"Thank you for turning down the heat," Maura whispered, prompting Jane to look down at her. Her skin was grey, but chilled, her lips tinged with a hint of blue, and she was startled at how quickly the blonde's temperature had changed.

"Maur, tell me more about your dream," she tried, attempting to keep the blonde's eyes open.

Maura let out a low hiss in response, her eyes opening briefly, but only to flash up at Jane. "I don't like this," she mumbled.

"What, you don't like almost losing a leg and nearly drowning?" Jane asked with a nervous smile. "Is that not your idea of a good camping trip?" She waited for Maura's response, but it didn't come, and she leaned over, squeezing her shoulder. "Maur, I need you to wake up," she said. "You're going to miss out on the car games. That's the best part about the ride home." She glanced up at Korsak, her panic bubbling just below her chest. "Where the fuck is the hospital?" she asked.

"We're two miles out," he said. "We'll get there, Jane."

"Hear that, Maura, we're two minutes away," she said, glancing down at the blonde, whose eyes had closed. "Come on, Maur, you hear that?" she repeated, rubbing a hand along a limp arm. She waited for some sign of acknowledgement, but when it didn't come, she placed her hand quickly on Maura's chest, checking her breathing before placing two fingers against her neck, where she was met with a rapid and thready pulse.

"Shit," she said, her voice escalating in panic. "Shit!"

Korsak glanced back at her, but only for a moment as he jerked the wheel, navigating through an intersection. "Hang on, hang on," he said, whether for Jane's benefit or for Maura's she didn't know. A few yards ahead she finally saw the bright lights of an "EMERGENCY" sign along the left of the road. The tires squealed as they rounded the turn, and Korsak lurched them to a halt in the roundabout outside the building, his door open before he had even stopped.

Jane let Korsak lift Maura out of the car, carrying her as fast as he could towards the double doors of the emergency room. The lights blared out at her, too bright after being in so much darkness, and her vision swam as she followed him. By the time she focused again, Maura was lying on a nearby gurney, her skin eerily reminiscent of the sheets she lay on.

A nurse was upon them, questions pouring from her mouth, and Jane worked to get her brain working, attempting to morph back into 'cop' mode and trying to remember the vocabulary Maura had used in the woods. "She was injured in a car crash," she said to the nurse. "Uh, something about a leaking artery. It was leaking and I cut her in order to let the blood out. I did a, uh... a fasciotomy or... I cut her leg open." She didn't like the way her voice was shaking, her composure suddenly wafer thin.

"Okay," the nurse replied, already opening Maura's eyes and peering into her pupils, one hand feeling for her pulse. "We'll take her back. Stay put, and we'll be out to let you know what's going on, okay?"

Jane nodded, watching with a fist over her mouth as the nurse wheeled Maura behind the double doors. But it was that sudden separation that suddenly rocked through her, and she leaned heavily into a wall as another nurse approached her. "Let's get you checked out, okay?" she asked, studying her with a clinical eye.

"I'm fine," Jane replied quickly, not bothering to look at her. She wasn't going anywhere until she heard that Maura was okay. "I just want to wait on my – on my friend."

"Then how about we at least get you cleaned up?" the nurse asked with a delicate smile, her eyes running over the scrapes along Jane's brow and arms.

"I need to call my mom," Jane said suddenly, glancing at Korsak.

"I'll handle it," he replied, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Just get yourself taken care of, all right?"

She let the nurse lead her through the same double doors, where scrubbed nurses and doctors milled around her, all of them walking too fast for her brain to process and it was then that her brain suddenly went black, the floor dropping from underneath her.

Jane sat on a gurney, circling the scars on her palms as she waited, a used ice pack lying beside her. She had been embarrassed after fainting, and had spent the next hour convincing every nurse around her that she didn't need anymore undue attention. She heard her mother's voice before she saw her, but rather give her the usual eye roll of a greeting, she let her mother wrap her arms around her, rocking her gently back and forth several time. "Jane, sweetheart, are you okay?" Angela asked, her hands tracing Jane's eyebrow, worry morphing her expression.

"It appears that way," Jane replied, inching out of her grasp. For now, at least, she was done with the hugs.

"How's Maura?" Tommy asked.

"I don't know," Jane said. "She's in surgery, but I haven't heard anything for an hour now."

"Korsak said it was her leg," Angela said, still unable to keep her hand from patting Jane's arm, as if confirming that she was indeed standing in front of her. "My god, I was so worried about the both of you. I was certain you'd been in an accident." She cocked her head. "A mother's intuition is never wrong."

"Spare me, Ma," Jane muttered, pacing away from her mother's worried hands. "Where's Frankie?"

"He's with Korsak and Frost, processing," Tommy said, punching a text message into his phone. "I'm keeping him updated." He glanced up at Jane. "Why was Maura with you in the first place? She's not a trained cop, she's a medical examiner. Why the hell would you take her on some investigation?"

"I didn't take her," Jane exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she glanced accusingly at her mother.

"Tommy," Angela warned, holding up a hand. "Ease off."

In true Rizzoli fashion, Tommy ignored her, looking back at Jane. "I'm just saying, you guys may be having problems, but that's no reason to tear off and put her at risk, is it?"

Jane lunged off of the bed she had been perching on for the last hour, her anxiety fueling her anger at her little brother. "You think I would ever put Maura deliberately at risk?"

Tommy threw up his hands. "I don't know, Calamity Jane," he said, his voice rising. "All I know is that trouble follows you just as much as it follows me, whether you like it or not."

"Tommy!" Angela said, matching the pitch of his voice.

"And this time, Maura got caught in the cross-hairs," he continued.

Jane lashed out at him. "You need to shut your fucking hole," she said, eager to funnel her fear into something. She hadn't been able to fight back earlier that night, and she hadn't managed to save Maura. If Korsak hadn't arrived when he did, an amputated leg would have been the least of their problems. "And you need to lay off, Tommy." She shoved him, hard, catching him off balance.

Tommy appeared shocked more than angry, and didn't make a move toward her, but Angela didn't give him the chance, jumping between the two of them. "All right!" she yelled. "Both of you back off, or I'll put you both in the ER!" she commanded. "Tommy," she said, turning toward him. "Take a walk."

Tommy hung his head as he left, his face reddening, an expression that Jane recognized from when they fought as kids. It was always pride with Tommy, rather than anger. Angela turned back to Jane with a pair of empathetic eyes, but the look wasn't returned. Jane's anxiety had reached a new level, and she wanted to pummel her brother, for more reasons than she was comfortable with admitting. She knew Tommy harbored a crush on Maura, and had even acted on it once. And that not only made her protective, it made her jealous.

She paced, her anger finally giving way to exhaustion as she leaned against the wall, slowly sinking as she put her head in her hands. She heard her mother pad to her over, and caught the white Keds she wore out of the cracks in her hands. "Ma, I don't want to talk right now," she said.

"You don't have to talk," Angela replied, letting out a sigh as she sat down next to her daughter, the motion taking more effort than she liked to let on. "I'm going to talk."

Jane rolled her eyes, but Angela put up a hand. "If you don't let me talk, then I'm just going to resort to hugging."

"Fine. Talk."

"I thought that by forcing you and Maura together today, that it would help both of you remember why you had been friends in the first place." She glanced over at Jane. "But that's not the problem, is it?" she asked thoughtfully.

Jane stayed silent, fumbling with a lace on her shoe before finally offering a response. "The problem is she was confused about her biological father," she replied. "The guy that I shot. Remember that, Ma?"

"Of course I remember it," Angela said. "But let me tell you something, Jane, relationships are about communication and honesty. Whether it's friendship or something else, you got to talk to one another."

"I know, Ma. We've been through this. Stories, couples therapy, the works. I got to say, though, it's always the near-death experience that mends a friendship." She tried to chuckle, but the sounds merely came out as a muffled sigh. "Maura and I will get there, don't worry."

"If you have something to say to Maura, Jane Rizzoli, then I would hope that today, of all days, would teach you that you can't wait to say it."

"We should all just go around tossing out heartfelt confessions, then?" Jane muttered. How many times had she rehearsed her own in her head, only to back down the minute Maura's inquisitive eyes met hers?

"Sure," Angela said with a satisfied wave of her hand. "I'll start." She ignored her daughter's slumped shoulders and residual eye roll, and continued. "You're my daughter, and I love you. No matter what. But I won't stand for you not being true to who you are."

Jane looked over at her. "What do you mean, Ma?" she asked quietly, but she felt as if something was slowly being bared between the two of them, layer by layer.

"You can't help who you love," Angela replied with a comforting smile. "But you're lucky."

"Lucky?" Jane repeated. "I don't know whether to agree with you or to call your bluff," Jane said, waving at their surroundings. "I'm sitting in an ER waiting to hear whether Maura loses a leg or not. That's not generally my idea of lucky."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Why is a heart to heart always so difficult with you?" Angela asked, shaking her head.

"Maybe because you're doing it wrong," Jane said defensively.

"No, you're doing it wrong," Angela replied with a wag of her finger. "If you love Maura, you tell her that you love her. You're lucky, Jane, because she loves you back. A blind man could see that."

Jane felt something open up inside her, that was rawer and newer than she expected, but nevertheless, it felt good to hear those words from her mother, as if the battle she'd been playing out in her head wouldn't be fought alone after all. "That's all I have to say," Angela said, patting Jane's knee. "Now get up so you can help me off the floor."

Jane rose slowly, reaching down and pulling her mother up. "I appreciate this... pep talk, Ma," she said, running a hand through her hair. "But for now, can we keep it between the two of us?"

Angela smiled at her. "Sure. If you give me a hug."

"What, you're resorting to bribery now?" Jane asked, mirroring her mirth with a small grin and leaning into her, giving her a healthy squeeze. She only broke the embrace when a nurse popped her head into the small station, a clipboard in her hand. "I have news, Detective," she said.

Jane's stomach clenched as she straightened, gripping her mother's hand. "You're smiling," she observed. "Either it's good news or you have a horrible bedside manner." Her attempt at humor didn't lift her anxiety, though, and she fidgeted as the nurse flipped through the clipboard with a breezy laugh.

"Maura will be fine," she said. "She did lose a lot of blood, but we got her stabilized and her vitals are all normal. She pulled through surgery without a problem, and thanks to your surgical skills, there was no irreparable damage to any nerves or tendons. We moved her into a private room for the night."

"Can I stay with her?" Jane asked immediately, only letting out the breath she'd been holding when the nurse nodded at her.

"Of course," she said. "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly, letting go of her mother's hand. "Yes."

Maura's coloring had returned to the way Jane remembered it from that morning, its normally healthy hue, and Jane let out another relieved sigh as she caught sight of the blonde's left leg, which was wrapped in bulky white bandage. At the sound of her footsteps, Maura turned, greeting her with tired, droopy eyes, but she lifted her head and offered a genuine smile.

"Hey Maur," Jane said, returning it. "I don't remember the last time you smiled at me."

"This isn't me," she replied. "This is my leg smiling at you."

"Well, I see you're kind of making sense again," Jane observed, stopping at the side of the bed and looking down at her. "That's a good sign."

"She won't be making sense for long," a voice said behind them, and a large, round nurse walked in and greeted them with a matronly nod of her head. "Those sedatives will be kicking in shortly, Dr. Isles. You'll be out like a light." She picked up a marker and wrote her name across a dry-erase board. "My name's Rhonda. I'll be checking in on you throughout the night." She glanced at Jane. "You the partner?"

Jane let go of Maura's hand, which she had subconsciously held, and shook her head. "No, I'm... Jane," she said, unable to come offer up anything else.

"Well, all right, Jane," Rhonda replied, walking over to Maura and studying the IV that ran to her arm. "You look like you could use a hospital room too, if you ask me." She straightened. "But nobody asks me." She patted Maura's hand, glancing down at her. "Looks like it's kicking in," she said, as the medical examiner's eyes drooped. "Call me If you need anything," she called as she headed for the door, closing it lightly behind her.

Jane moved toward a nearby chair, but Maura grasped her hand, pulling her back. "Come here," she said, her voice thin. "I was worried about you." She pulled Jane down, studying the bruises and cuts along her temple. "Are you okay?"

Jane laughed. "Jesus, Maura, yes, I'm fine." She nodded towards the bandaged leg. "I think you're the one we need to worry about."

"I'm so tired," Maura replied, her eyes drooping again.

Jane reached for the chair behind her, pulling it over without breaking Maura's grip on her hand. "That's good," she replied. "I'm just going to stay right here."

Maura looked over at her as she settled into her chair. "You stayed," she said.

Jane shook her head, confused. "Yeah, I'm staying," she repeated. "I'm going to stay until we take you home tomorrow."

Maura shook her head, as if freeing herself from muddied thoughts. "No, you stayed with me. You didn't have to stay with me, Jane."

Jane balked, squeezing her hand. "Of course I did," she said. "That's one of the most important mantras of a Scout Trooper: "never leave a fallen comrade"."

Maura curled her lip slightly. "That's the soldier's creed," she said drowsily. "But I'll take it." She attempted to open her eyes, which were heavy with both natural and chemically-induced exhaustion. "That's why you won Sweetest Camper... sweetest soldier..."

Jane grinned, once again resigned to a less than fully cognizant Maura. "Yeah," she replied. "About that - "

"Jane."

"Yeah, Maur."

"Jane."

She leaned in closer to the lethargic blonde, whispering lightly into her ear. "Yeah, Maur."

Maura returned the favor, turning to her, eyes closed as she murmured, "I'm sorry," repeating the words again and again, becoming a tired meditation.

"Shh," Jane said, pressing her lips lightly into her hair. "We'll get to all those formalities tomorrow, don't you worry." She rubbed her fingers gently along Maura's hand, finally clasping it in her own as she brought it to her lips and kissed each of the raw knuckles. "Maura," she said softly, almost imperceptibly, hoping it would sound like a dream to the sleeping woman in front of her. "I love you."

The words had come out easier than she expected, but maybe that's because it was truly the first time she had admitted them to herself. The hardest part, the most vulnerable part, would be sitting down with Maura and explaining exactly how she felt. For now, though, she would simply stay with her.

* * *

**Yeah, it's just a one-shot, but it's still nice to hear from you. Reviews will be rewarded... :)**


	2. Going Home

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Two**

The rustle of bedsheets, reminiscent of the sound of crunching leaves, awoke her, leaving her breathless as she grabbed for an imaginary gun, coming up only with Maura's cool hand. She glanced up, cringing at the crick in her neck that shot a spasm of pain down her spine, and stared into Nurse Rhonda's reproving gaze.

"You know, if you ask me, you can watch Dr. Isles sleep just fine from that nice couch over there," she said, pointing to the small loveseat that sat against the window. But nobody asks me." She rustled around Jane, replacing Maura's empty IV bag with a full one. "This should keep her out until morning," she said with a nod, just barely patting Maura's hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

Jane rose slowly from her chair, clutching her lower back. She remembered watching Maura twitch effortlessly into sleep, not able to let go of her hand, instead stroking it until she succumbed to her own exhaustion. "I think I'll take your advice, Rhonda," she said, wincing. "What time is it?"

"Four thirty-two," the nurse answered. "I'll be back for breakfast in a couple of hours." She watched as Jane sat gingerly on the couch. "You need some aspirin? I'll bring you some."

Jane started to decline, but changed her mind. If she was only going to get another couple of hours of sleep, she might as well make them restful ones. "Yeah," she answered. "I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"Sure," Rhonda replied, stepping back out into the hallway.

The suture above Jane's eye was throbbing, but that was probably because she'd fallen asleep on it, just as the doctor had instructed her not to do. She sighed, content with the fact that was the one major injury with which she had to deal. Things could have gone much worse back at the retreat. When she closed her eyes, she still heard the first firing pops of gunshots, heard the glass cracking, heard her own frantic shouts for Maura to get out of the car. She hadn't willingly put them in danger, but Tommy's words looped through her head like a continuous symphonic guilt. She had the urge to pace again, but was too tired and too sore. Instead she darted her eyes from one side of the room to the next, mimicking the movement, until Rhonda stepped back into the room.

"Here you go," she said, handing over two aspirin and a small cup of water. She watched as Jane swallowed them down, but didn't turn to go, instead standing with her fleshy arms crossed over her chest. "Rumor has it that you're the one that saved your girlfriend's leg over there," she said, pointing with her thumb toward the hospital bed.

"She's not my girlfriend," Jane whispered, too quickly and too defensively.

"Is she a girl?"

"Yes."

"Is she your friend?"

"Yes."

Rhonda shrugged. "Sounds like a girlfriend to me. You a doctor, too?"

"No, I'm a detective," Jane replied, unsure as to why she felt obligated to answer Nurse Rhonda's questions in the middle of the night, but the woman's presence was oddly comforting. More comforting than her dreams, at least. "But Maura told me what to do."

"She told you exactly how to cut open her leg?"

"Yeah."

"I don't even know what to call that," Rhonda said with a shake of her head. "That's some Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman shit, right there." She glanced down at the watch that cut into her wrist. "We're going to have to redress that leg in the morning. I'll show you how to do it. I'm guessing you'll be the one taking care of her?"

Jane hadn't necessarily thought that far ahead, but she nodded. Who else but her would take care of Maura? "Yeah," she said with a nod. "I'll be taking care of her."

Rhonda nodded. "I guess if you cut her open, you can help make sure she stays closed up, huh?" she said with a small chuckle. "Anyway, you know the drill. Call button if you need me. But your girlfriend here should sleep the rest of the night without any pain."

Jane started to protest again, but just gave Rhonda a small wave as the quiet click of the door signaled that she and Maura were alone once again. This time, she stretched out as much as she could on the small couch, her legs dangling over its arm, and succumbed to a deep, painless sleep.

* * *

At first it was a dull ache, penetrating into a dream of some sort, but soon it turned into a shooting throb, pulling Maura from her sleep with a hissed moan. Her surroundings blurred around her for a few seconds as she blinked away the floaters that marred her vision. Her leg throbbed, her mouth was dry, and a shooting pain radiated through her lower back. Then the memory hit her and she unconsciously shot up further in her bed, the twitch of her leg causing her to groan and drop back to her pillow. When she blinked again, however, the fog clouding her vision faded, and she breathed a small, clenched sigh of relief as she caught sight of the figure in the room with her. The morning light appeared in soft, slitted shadows across the loveseat, where Jane was draped comically across it, her legs dangling precariously over the sides. If Maura hadn't been gritting her teeth in pain, she would have laughed.

Lifting her head, she raised herself up as much as her current position would allow, glimpsing the bulky white bandage wrapped around her left leg. The pain was more than likely normal, considering her leg had been slightly crushed and cut open with nothing more than a sliver of acrylic glass, but infection was, and always had been, her biggest fear.

Her fingers found the nurse call button as she glanced at the clock against the far wall, which told her it was already mid-morning. She leaned towards the small table beside her bed, stretching towards the cup of ice chips she'd had the night before, her need for water suddenly palpable in her dry throat. Her fingers grazed the edge of it before sending it toppling, the plastic clinking angrily against the table before dropping to the floor with a loud, hollow clack.

Jane was up in a second, half falling, half leaping off the too-small couch, her eyes wide and wild with alarm. Again, under different circumstances, Maura would have enjoyed the scene. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice thick with medication. "I knocked over my glass."

Jane smiled, bending over and tossing it into the trash can. "I see that," she said. "Of all the sounds I could do without right about now, it's the sound of any flowing water." She grinned, placing a few paper towels along the spill, but her smile disappeared as she caught the furrowed lines across Maura's forehead. "How you feeling, Maur?"

"I can't complain," Maura offered through pursed lips. "Living, breathing, passively exchanging oxygen for carbon dioxide."

Jane chuckled. "Right, as long as you're oxidizing."

Maura frowned, shaking her head. "No, that would actually be a bad thing," she corrected. "Excessive nitrosative stress can lead to depleted nucleic acid bases."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, I'd say you're feeling all right," she teased, but inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Loopy Maura had been just as hard to understand as Competent Maura, and if she had her choice, she preferred the latter.

The door opened and Rhonda appeared, seemingly still as peppy as earlier that morning. "Whew," she said, eyeing Maura's IV bag. "Someone is out of fentanyl. What are you doing, girl, drinking it?" She smiled easily, glancing at Jane. "How'd that couch work out for you, Dr. Quinn? I came in for rounds at five this morning and I gotta say, you looked like Paul Bunyan taking a nap."

"Thank you," Jane replied breezily, appreciating the humor. "Just need another ten thousand milligrams of Advil for the back problems it will give me, but fine."

"Well," Rhonda replied, looking down at a clipboard she held. "Looks like you can stop off at the Walgreens for that, because Dr. Isles, you're headed home this morning. We're discharging you into the hands of you caretaker, here," she said with a wave of her hand towards Jane, who smiled proudly.

Maura looked up at her, eyes wide. "Caretaker?" she repeated.

"What, you don't think I can take care of you?" Jane asked, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"Judging by how you take care of yourself?" Maura asked, but she shook her head with a small smile. "I think you've proven that you can take care of me."

"Well, you're both in luck, because it isn't that hard," Rhonda said, cutting in between the two of them. "If you can handle fasciotomy, you can handle this." She glanced up at Jane. "You don't have a weak stomach do you?"

Jane glanced at Maura with a grin, deciding to spare poor Rhonda the details of her nine to five job as a homicide cop. Weak stomachs didn't get very far in her line of work. "Thankfully, no," she replied.

"All right then," Rhonda said, laying out several pieces of gauze and tape wrapping onto the bed. "You got your gauze, your bandages, your tape, and your wrapping. She walked them through the process, making Jane clean the wounds, which appeared as two jagged lines running the length of Maura's shin, and then wrap them. Once she was satisfied, she gave Jane an approving nod. "All right then," she repeated, darting a conspiratorial look at Maura. "If you ask me, you got a talented caretaker. But nobody asks me."

She dropped the used dressings in the trash, rubbing her gloved hands together. "You call a ride yet?" she asked. "It will probably take another hour for me to complete the discharge, and I'll get a wheelchair up here, but we'll comp parking for you if your ride needs to wait."

"I'll take care of it," Jane said with a nod, reaching for the phone in her pocket, which had, by now, dried completely and was working fine, despite the cracked screen. She started to put it up to her ear, but thought better of it, instead holding it a few inches away from her head. No need to prolong their stay with an accidental cut.

"You're the caretaker," Rhonda replied, turning her attention back to Maura. "Dr. Isles, what's your specialty?" she asked casually. "Surgery? You certainly know a lot about fasciotomy."

"She knows a lot about _everything_," Jane cut in from the window as the phone rang in her ear. "But her specialty is dead people."

"I'm a medical examiner," Maura emphasized, darting Jane an exasperated look. Tact had never been her strong point.

"And she's a detective?" Rhonda asked, pointing toward Jane.

Maura nodded. "Homicide, yes."

"You examine her dead bodies, then?"

Maura cocked her head. "Yes. And others. Anytime there's a suspicious death, really." She straightened in her bed, rarely enjoying the opportunity to talk at length about her work. She usually lost her listeners at the word 'autopsy'. "It's quite rewarding work, actually."

Rhonda pursed her lips. "Hmm. I think I'll opt for sticking people with needles and changing bedpans." Maura frowned as the conversation suddenly ended, her quick career spotlight expired.

Jane tossed her phone back onto the couch. "Tommy's on his way," she said, unable to cover up her scowl. He was the first that had picked up the phone, and the first who offered. Who was she to decline just because she happened to be a bit jealous of her own brother? Besides, at this point, he was preferable to her mother; she could at least manage him better.

"Dr. Isles, you got things to change into, right?" Rhonda asked, turning towards a small closet, where Maura's clothes from the previous night were crumpled into a small plastic bag. She tossed it to Jane. "Girlfriend, why don't you handle that," she said, heading towards the door. "I'll go check on those discharge papers and grab you some more gauze to take home with you."

Jane watched her leave with raised eyebrows and turned to glance at Maura, the bag hanging daintily from her fingers. "You want to handle this by yourself?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

"Some caretaker you are," Maura said with a laugh. "You're like a twelve-year-old boy."

"That is not true," Jane said. "Because a twelve-year-old would almost certainly want to see you naked." If her comment had been intended to lighten the mood, it only served to redden her face even more.

Maura ignored her, instead gingerly lifting her legs over the edge of the bed. "Just help me a little," she said, moving to raise herself off the bed.

"What? Come on, Maur, sit down," Jane insisted, walking over to her and forcing her back onto the bed, tossing the clothes down next to her. "The last thing we need is you taking a spill and rupturing something in your good leg."

Maura fingered the plastic bag sadly. "A Proenza Schouler jacket crumpled up in a plastic bag."

"Yes, the fashion gods are weeping," Jane said, opening the bag and dumping its contents onto the bed. It looked like everything was there, except of course, for the boots, which thankfully had been the only casualty the night before. As Maura lamented the state of her jacket, holding it up with a frown in front of her, Jane fingered a pair of black lace panties, raising her eyebrows at the thought of sliding them up Maura's thighs. She subconsciously licked her lips, biting back the guilt that she felt as a familiar fantasy perked its way through her brain. In her imagination, however, she had been performing the gesture in reverse, and certainly not on top of a hospital bed.

She abruptly cleared her throat. "Uh, here are... these," she said, bending down and slipping them over Maura's socked feet and over the bulky bandage. As Maura stood, Jane helped her balance as the shorter woman pulled them the rest of the way up her hips, letting the parachute-like hospital gown cover them quickly. They repeated the process with Maura's black trousers, with Jane snapping the buttons into place as Maura gripped her shoulders.

Jane tried to keep her eyes focused solely on her task, like a good caretaker, but was mainly preoccupied with breathing, hoping that her nerves weren't showing through her shaking hands. Her gaze flitted upwards, where Maura was following the actions of her fingers. "There," she said, swallowing and taking a step back. "Now you look like... you're in a hospital gown and pants."

"Well, pants is an improvement," Maura said with a small smile as she tried to work the knot behind her neck. "Will you untie me?"

Jane nodded, rounding the bed and reaching over to untie the strings at Maura's back, her fingers just slightly grazing the skin there. She cleared her throat, taking another step back and tried to avert her gaze as Maura slid the gown from her torso, tossing it aside. A particularly nasty bruise just above the small of her back caught Jane's eye, and she gasped as she leaned into it, running her fingers gently over it. "You got a pretty bad bruise here," she said, but her fingers suddenly froze at the contact of smooth, warm skin and Maura's muscles tightened under her touch.

"I'm sure we've both got our share of bruises," Maura finally offered, but didn't move away from Jane's hand. Instead, she simply slipped her bra onto her shoulders, clasping it deftly before sliding her blouse over her arms. She turned her head backwards, glancing at Jane with a casual smile. "What do you think? Good as new?"

"A little wear and tear," Jane replied, but she smiled as she rounded the bed, staring down at Maura's feet, thankful that her tender gesture hadn't been made more awkward. "I think you're acceptable. Those blue socks, however..."

Maura laughed, crinkling her toes on her good foot as Jane took a seat next to her. "I hate hospitals," she said.

"But you love morgues?"

Maura dropped her head, and Jane thought she detected a small blush, a reaction that could only mean the blonde was revealing something rarely shared with anyone else. "Strange, huh?"

Jane shook her head. "Not at all. Hospitals are shitty places."

"Yeah. Filled with live people." Maura shook her head. "I never once went to the hospital as a kid. I never broke a bone, or needed stitches, or anything." She gave a half-hearted chuckle, only slightly tinged with sadness. "There's not much room for danger when you spend most of your time alone. What about you?" she asked, patting Jane's knee. "I can't imagine the number of times your mother rushed you or your brothers to the emergency room."

Jane rolled her eyes. "We needed a frequent ER card," she said. "Nine visits, the tenth one's free!" She laughed, lifting her own pant leg and revealing a long, thin scar along the outside of her knee. "This one was the worst, though."

Maura looked down at it, nodding her head. "Anterior cruciate ligament tear," she said with a nod. "Not too invasive of a surgery, but a painful recovery. How did it happen? Soccer, hockey, rugby, some other overly aggressive sport?"

Jane blushed and suddenly wished she had demonstrated another scar, at least one that had a better story behind it. "Ah, I don't remember," she said quickly, ducking her head as she pushed her pant leg back down. Maura's eyes were on her, however, and she pressed further.

"What's it from?" she repeated, pushing against Jane's leg with her own.

"It's not indicative of my usual sports preferences," Jane returned, catching Maura's grin as she glanced expectantly at her. For the first time in weeks she caught a glint of happiness in them, and she took the time to appreciate it.

"Come on, what was it, ballet?" Maura asked.

Jane frowned. "Okay, Maur, that's still not a sport, okay? It's dance, it's a whole different category. We've been over this."

"Well, what was it?"

Jane sighed, biting her lip and taking the plunge. "Ice skating."

For a moment Maura just stared, her mouth open in amusement before finally recovering. "Aw, Jane," she cooed, pinching her arm. "I bet you were adorable. Did you wear a little sparkling ice skating skirt?" Maura smiled, enjoying an opportunity to ride the detective, just a bit. It not only kept her mind off the pain in her leg, it kept it from dwelling on that touch at her back. She was used to their casual touches, but Jane's fingers on her skin had lit up her back with something that didn't remotely resemble pain, and until she figured it out, she needed to prolong the distraction.

"Yes, I did," Jane said hastily. "I took it up because I knew it was the only sport Tommy and Frankie wouldn't try to upstage me in."

"I bet you were great at it," Maura offered.

"Not exactly," Jane said. "My instructor once told me I reminded her of Bullwinkle on a pair of skis."

Maura covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, and Jane tossed an accusatory glance her way, but her dark eyes quickly softened. "Well, luckily, you turned out okay," Maura said, still chuckling. Their laughs collided into one another, fading after a moment into the quiet hum of the room.

Maura sighed. "I just want to go home." She didn't know why, exactly. Her home had been a lonely place for the past few days without Angela or Jane barging in at all hours. The quiet that permeated the space around her lately reminded her of her childhood, and she realized how much she missed what Jane had given her over the past three years.

Jane pursed her lips. "You may have a small welcoming crew when you get there," she said. "But don't worry, I'll get them the hell out of there as soon as I can."

"I don't mind your family, Jane."

"Speaking of family..." Jane said, glancing down at Maura. "You going to call your mother or you want me to do it?"

Maura looked wearily at her. "I'm not calling my mother. I'm fine, there's no reason to bother her."

Jane balked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't think she's going to wonder why you're sporting a designer bandage when she sees you?"

"I'll explain it when I see her. I don't want to upset her, she's finally back at home."

Jane glanced at Maura. She would never understand the intricacies of her relationship with her parents, but she knew enough to respect it, however little it made sense to her. "That's fine," she said. "You'll have enough smothering to last you for awhile with Ma Rizzoli, trust me."

"Your mother's been too kind to me," Maura said.

Jane looked at her. "She loves you," she replied, her eyes deepening. "We all do."

Maura rested her head on Jane's shoulder, an innocent gesture, nothing she wouldn't ordinarily do, but it gave her more comfort than usual. She sniffed, pressing her nose against Jane's arm, then her own. "We both are in dire need of a shower," she said.

"What, you don't like smell of sweat and fear, with a faint hint of terror?" Jane asked with a grin. Her comment was jovial, but the words pulled a reminder of the previous night over them, blanketing their levity with terse sadness.

Maura spoke finally, her voice low and thick. "The last time I was that scared was in that hospital room with Hoyt."

Jane swallowed, the memory shooting into her throat with a dull lump. "Yeah," she agreed. "I'd say this time you came out a little worse for wear, though. But least you can enjoy a beer without that kick of aluminum." Her attempt at lightness fell flat, even on her own tongue, and she swallowed again.

"I'm not talking about losing my leg," Maura said. "I'm talking about the thought of losing you." She slowly traced Jane's hand, which was still on her knee, grazing the bumps of her knuckles. "That scares me more than anything."

"Even more than flesh-scarfing bacteria?"

Maura was silent, and Jane chanced a look at her, meeting a pair of hazel eyes that held a deepness she rarely saw there, as if they were holding a secret that was too raw to be spoken. Jane's humor had only gotten her so far with Maura, and if she really was going to take her mother's advice for once, she'd have to stop hiding behind it. "Maura - " she began, but was cut off by the familiar click of the door.

"All right, then," Rhonda said, entering the room pushing a wheelchair in one hand and carrying a set of crutches in the other. "Got the discharge papers and you're ready to go."

As Rhonda went over the papers with Maura, Jane half-listened, a part of her more than grateful for the interruption and the other part wondering when she would get the balls to try broaching the subject again. She snapped to attention as Rhonda motioned for her, and the two of them helped Maura into the chair, the blonde still clutching her jacket.

"Dr. Isles, it was nice knowing you," Rhonda said, then tossed a glance at Jane. "You too, Dr. Quinn."

Jane rolled her eyes, but gave her a small wave as she wheeled Maura out of the room. "Tommy should be here in a little while," she said. "But at least the lobby is a change of scenery."

"Jane," Maura said, after a beat. "Did we forget the crutches?"

Jane stopped quickly, the chair lurching slightly and she grimaced as she put her hands on Maura's shoulders, keeping her in place. "Oh, good call, Maur," she said, parking the chair alongside the elevator. "I'll grab them. Don't go anywhere."

"Not planning on it."

Jane walked briskly back into the room, where Rhonda cut her eyes at her as she sat on the bed. "Wondered how long it would take you to remember these," she said, gesturing to the crutches beside her.

"Yeah, don't bother running after us or anything," Jane quipped, grabbing them.

"If you ask me," Rhonda piped, "the two of you seem lucky to have each other."

Jane nodded, slowly, appreciating the comment. It was a truth she hadn't acknowledged over the past few days, but the night at the retreat had changed that. "Yeah, well," she said with a smirk. "No one asked you."

Rhonda laughed, waving her hand towards the door. "The two of you get outta my hospital," she said.

"Glad to!" Jane called over her shoulder as she made her way back to Maura, who was waiting for her with a curious smile. Her normally shiny hair poofed dryly at her shoulders, making her look smaller than normal, and her skin was still wan from exhaution, but as Maura smiled up at her, Jane felt a well of relief open inside her, filling the void. She had Maura back, and this time, she wouldn't lose her.

* * *

**Just thought I'd continue in this "deleted scene" vein for another chapter or so. If there's interest, I thought about keeping this going throughout Season 3 and tackling upcoming episodes in hopes of adding to the real canon. But only if there's interest - you guys are half the fun of writing!**

**Thanks for all of the great feedback so far.**

**Hey Ren, thanks for the beta :)**


	3. Caretaking

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Three**

Jane's goodwill towards Tommy lasted through the ride home, but not much longer. After she and Maura reenacted an apology worthy of her mother's praise, her brother quickly wedged himself on the opposite side of the medical examiner, his hand moving toward her foot.

"You know what, Tommy, I think she's good," Jane said protectively, leaning over Maura and whacking his hand away.

"Well, I think she could use another pillow," he protested, plucking one from the couch.

"Well," Jane snapped, snatching the cushion from him, "I think she can decide whether she wants a pillow on her own."

Maura's eyes darted between the two of them, their words passing over her like playful arrows, but she put up a halting finger as Tommy started to toss another retort over her head. "I think I'm fine with my current elevation," she said, feigning politeness. "But thank you, Tommy."

"Yeah, no problem," he said disappointedly, narrowing his eyes at Jane.

She tossed the cushion back at him, a triumphant grin on her face. Tommy brought out a jealous streak in her, one she didn't particularly appreciate, but rather than deal with it, she simply chose to employ more drastic measures: kicking everyone out.

She clapped her hands down on her trousered thighs. "All right, this has been a hell of a homecoming, but I think it's best if we wrap this up." It sounded unappreciative, no doubt, but subtlety didn't go very far with the Rizzoli clan, and after peering into Maura's exhausted eyes she just wanted the blonde to sleep.

Angela glanced from Jane back to Maura, nodding slowly. "You girls could probably use some rest," she agreed.

"That's right," Jane confirmed, her voice crescendoing into a more official tone. "And, as ordained caretaker, I command you all to leave," she said, brandishing her fingers toward the door.

"Caretaker?" Tommy scoffed. "The girl who can't even remember to floss is a caretaker?"

Maura spoke up, raising a finger. "Actually, Jane flosses regularly now," she said with a pleased smile, as if this development in hygiene was her own personal victory.

Jane did a double-take toward her, uncertain whether to thank her or ask her to be quiet, which was a more than common debacle for her. In keeping with their newly mended friendship, she went with gratitude. "Thanks, Maur," she mumbled, just a little uncertainly. She darted a pointed look at her mother, accompanying it with a quick jerk of her head towards the door. This goodbye wasn't going fast enough for her taste.

"All right," Angela said, and Jane breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she had gotten the hint. "Let's go, boys."

Tommy looked at Maura, carefully ignoring Jane. "You sure you don't need anything?" he asked her.

Angela smacked the back of his head. "Jane can take care of it, Tommy, now get going." She darted a look at Frankie, who was still seated. "You too," she said, gesturing at him.

"Get some rest, Maura," Frankie offered with a wave as he walked behind the couch, pressing a hand against her shoulder. He appeared just as tired as Maura, and Jane gave him a small fist bump as he passed. "We're all glad you're okay."

Tommy rose reluctantly from the couch, but not before giving Maura a pat on her thigh, and followed Frankie. Jane watched, content, as her mother rounded the couch as well. "Thanks, Ma," she offered with a final wave of her hand. She and Maura needed peace, quiet, and a few doses of aspirin, and they wouldn't get any of that until the back door finally closed.

She turned toward Maura, but felt a familiar presence behind them. Angela, despite her haste in getting her boys out of the house, leaned over the edge of the couch, relaxing on her elbows.

"Ma?" Jane asked, tilting her head questionably back at her. "You need something?"

"No," Angela replied earnestly, oblivious to her daughter's tone. "Do you need something?"

"I need you to leave," Jane said through clenched teeth before tossing an apologetic frown at Maura.

"Ah," Angela said with a nod, Jane's meaning dawning on her. "Cut me some slack, I'm your mother. I need a few extra moments just to thank god you're both okay." She smiled down at Maura before leaning over and giving her a one-armed hug, pecking a kiss on the crown of her head. "I love you both," she said, reaching for Jane, but she squirmed away from her.

"Uh uh, Ma," Jane protested with a shake of her head. "I have two good legs and I am not afraid to run from you."

Maura giggled, reaching up and grasping Angela's hand. "If you want to move your things back to the guesthouse, I'd love to have you back."

"Just not tonight," Jane cut in, intent on preserving the privacy she was finally about to get.

"Don't worry," Angela said. "You girls just relax." Grabbing her purse, she walked towards the door. "Don't hesitate to call if - "

"We won't!" Jane called.

"Okay," came the response, then the soft click of the door as it finally shut behind her.

"Well, that wasn't difficult at all, was it?" Jane asked as Maura settled back into the couch, finally relaxing into the cushions.

"I do love them, but I am glad it's just the two of us." She grinned, her hazel eyes scanning the room around her, narrowing. "Where are my crutches?" she asked, a perplexed frown curling her lips.

"They're in the car," Jane replied casually. Unlike her forgetfulness at the hospital, this time she had left them behind on purpose.

"Why are they in the car?"

"Because I think you need to stay off that leg." Maura could be stubborn, especially when it came to anything involving anatomy or medicine, and Jane wasn't taking any chances. "And leaving them in the car was the only way I could get you to follow the doctor's orders."

Maura seemed less pleased by her decision and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I'm a doctor, and I'm ordering you to go get the crutches," she said. "I'm not an invalid."

"Today you are," Jane retorted with a grin, once again attempting to straighten out the crick in her neck. Clearly, the hospital couch hadn't been much better than falling asleep in the chair beside Maura's bed.

"Is your scalene muscle bothering you?" Maura asked with a clinical eye, her fingers already twitching with anticipation. Jane knew that look. It usually lead to some level of pain.

"No, it's not too bad," she said quickly, rising to her feet. "You want me to make you something to eat?"

If Maura was disappointed at not being able to demonstrate her healing prowess, she didn't show it, which meant her exhaustion really had settled in. "No, no, I'm fine for now. I just want to shower and put on some clean clothes."

Jane's stomach growled at the thought of food, but she couldn't disagree with Maura's order of priorities. She had washed up as best she could at the hospital, but now carried with her the unfortunate smell of bleach and antiseptic mingled with grime and sweat. "Want me to run a bath for you?" she offered, changing tracks toward the bedroom.

"You know, if you would bring me my crutches, I could do it myself," Maura answered logically.

Jane chuckled at the ploy, and stepped over to the couch, leaning over the prone medical examiner and placing a hand on either side of her. "You stay right here, and I'll help you into a nice warm bath in just a few minutes, okay?"

The closeness wasn't bothersome, or even out of the ordinary for the two of them, but Maura didn't respond right away. Jane's sudden proximity and her probing eyes had the same effect as her fingers had against her skin back at the hospital, and she swallowed quickly.

Jane sensed the fleeting tension and stepped back, straightening as she cleared her throat. "I'll be just a minute," she said, heading toward Maura's bedroom with a wide, slightly anxious pace. How had she managed to control her feelings so well for so long, only to lose it now?

She turned the faucet, plugging the tub and admiring the feminine cadre of soaps, salts, and lotions that lined the tiled wall. Her own shower, although still equipped with reliable shampoo and conditioner, was a lot less involved. She fingered a bag of lavender bath salts, sniffing them and recognizing Maura's familiar scent, and she wondered how many times the blonde treated herself to a bath and a glass of wine. And it being Maura, probably a journal article or two.

She shrugged, pouring a healthy dose of the salts into the water as steam rose toward her nose. She tossed in a couple of more products, pleased with her stone soup of soaps and bubbles, when her cell phone buzzed at her hip. Or rather, it gave a haphazard buzz, and "KORS" flashed on the jagged, half-broken screen.

"Hey Korsak, what's up," she said, flipping up the volume on her speaker. It didn't work, though, and she leaned into it to better hear her boss over the water.

"Where are you?" he asked. "Sounds like you're back at the goddamn reservoir."

Jane laughed. "I'm pouring a bath for Maura." As the words relayed back to her over Korsak's silence, she pressed him on, hoping he'd ignore them. "What do you need?"

Korsak's pause let her know that he did indeed catch the words, but he ignored them. "Listen, we got a handle on two of the fracking suspects, but the third fled."

That wasn't news she wanted to hear, especially after almost being killed by them. "Which one?" she asked, already dreading the answer.

"Moore," Korsak replied.

Jane pressed a balled fist lightly against the door jam, recalling the way the leader's hard jaw and confident eyes had bared down on her in the woods. "You got any leads?" she asked.

"No, but we're working the other two pretty hard. They're not saying anything yet. We're already looking into the other land licensed to the yoga operation. He could have fled there, maybe."

"They're not going to talk," Jane replied. "They know whose got their next paycheck, and it ain't us. What's the worst you can charge them with at this point?"

"Accessory to assault," he said with an unsatisfied sigh. "I got nothing connecting them to the two prior murders. I'm putting a guy on Dr. Isles house," he said. "And yours, just to be safe. Your Ma's staying with Frankie tonight."

"That seems rash, Korsak. Why would this guy want to come back for us if he's already managed to flee?" she asked.

"Jane, I been at this job for forty years, now. If I could explain a criminal's behavior, I'd be a lot richer than I am and the world would be a safer place."

Jane sighed, bending over and shutting off the water, the lavender doing much less to comfort her now. "Maura and I are the only witnesses that can place him there at the scene, aren't we? Just like Rachel was the only one who had evidence of the fracking."

"We're working as hard as we can, Jane."

"Fine. Look, keep me updated."

"You got it. And enjoy that bath, Rizzoli." She rolled her eyes as she heard him snicker, and tossed her phone onto the counter. She needed to see about getting a new phone, and quick. And until she got Maura one, too, she'd make sure the blonde didn't leave her sight. Slowly, she made her way back toward the living room.

"Okay, bath's ready," she said with a clap of her hands as she glanced toward the couch, but was met with only bare, empty silence. Maura was nowhere to be found and Jane's eyes lurched toward the back door, which was swung open. A jolt of panic pushed her forward as she reached for her gun, finding only her empty belt buckle. She would need to see about getting another gun, too.

"Maura," she yelled, lunging out of the back door, adrenaline giving her a second wind she didn't know she had. It bubbled up in her throat as a groan of relief as she caught sight of Maura bent into the backseat of the car, precariously pulling out her crutches while standing on one wobbly leg.

"Got 'em!" she called proudly, placing them under her arms, oblivious to the heart attack she'd nearly just given her closest friend.

"Maura, what the hell are you doing?" Jane reprimanded, walking towards her. "You're not supposed to put any weight on that shin."

"I didn't," she replied with a smile. "I hopped. Didn't I ever tell you I was champion at the three-legged race during year three at my primary school? It's all about balance and coordination."

"Gee, wonder why that never came up," Jane mumbled as she watched the shorter woman expertly wield the crutches back toward the house in a slow, but confident pattern. "Were you also champion at crutch races in medical school?"

Maura looked over at her with a surprised grin. "Yes, yes I was."

Jane rolled her eyes, not surprised that her sarcasm had been completely missed, but finding the familiar trait oddly comforting. As they neared the door Maura stopped short and glanced suspiciously at the street, causing Jane to nearly ram into her. "Jane, why is there an unmarked police car outside my home?"

Korsak had been fast, which didn't set Jane at ease in any particular way. "In case you get the big idea to not follow the doctor's orders and start walking around," she teased. "Next time I'll have him detain you."

Maura didn't buy it, her brow furrowing. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jane replied, ushering her back inside the house and locking the door behind them. "It's just precautionary while they look for the third fracking suspect, that's all." She tried to keep her voice light and even, unwilling to stress Maura any more than she already was. She didn't buy into alternative medicine, but she was sure the thought of being tracked by the man who had tried to kill them wouldn't do wonders for the healing process.

"Will he come after us?"

"No, more than likely he's already overseas planning his next fracking retreat in Tijuana, for all I know." Jane smiled, hoping to put her at ease, but she could practically see the wheels kicking into gear in Maura's mind. Instead, she went for distraction. "You're bath is ready."

Maura didn't look wholly reassured, but she nodded. "I'll be quick," she said, peering at Jane with a discerning eye. "Want me to run one for you after I'm done? You look like you could use some exfoliation."

"No thanks," Jane said. "I'll get my exfoliation in during a shower."

"A bath will help relax you," Maura pointed out.

It was probably true, but Jane didn't feel like relaxing at the moment, her body buzzing with a new adrenaline. "I'll relax in the shower," she repeated. "You need some help getting out of those clothes?" Her mouth went dry at the thought.

"No, I can manage," Maura replied, fortunately pretending not to notice the verbal slip up. "Enjoy your shower. There are plenty of towels in the - "

"I know," Jane said, cutting her off with a pointed finger down the hallway. "Side closet, guest room." She turned, glad for an excuse to hide her flushed face.

Maura called after her. "There are also some of your clothes in the bureau in there."

"Great," Jane returned, wondering which clothes on which night she'd managed to leave behind. How had she slept next to Maura all those times and completely kept her cool? There had been something about almost losing her that had dismantled Jane's internal wiring. She had certainly been attracted to women, and had acted upon it a few times, but had never broached the idea of a relationship. But wasn't that exactly what she and Maura had come to perfect over the past three years?

She showered, taking her time and allowing her mind to drift. Showering was the closest thing she got to meditation and she liked the way her mind floated, the thoughts sometimes swirling down the drain, never to be remembered. Once she toweled off, slipping into the jean shorts and t-shirt that were folded neatly in the guestroom dresser, she padded barefoot down the hallway. The house was quiet, and she drifted into Maura's bedroom, where the telltale splash of water let her know the doctor was still enjoying her bath.

"You wrinkled enough in there yet?" she called, knocking lightly on the bathroom door.

"Yes," Maura returned. "My stratum corneum has sufficiently swelled."

"I just call it pruning," Jane replied with a small shrug. She poked her head into the bathroom, where Maura was submerged under a healthy layer of white bubbles, her left leg hanging dryly off the rim of the tub. "How can that be comfortable enough to be relaxing?" Jane asked.

"Oh, you have no idea," Maura sighed, smiling up at her. "Here, sit with me," she said, gesturing toward the sink. "How was your shower?"

"Magnificent."

"Good," Maura replied, dipping her head back against the ledge. "Not as good as this, I can assure you."

"Shall I get you a glass of wine and some soft jazz?" Jane asked with a grin.

Maura popped one eye open, testing her. "Do you mind?"

The simple notion of a request was enough to launch Jane off her perch on the sink. "Really?" she asked, but then caught the significant twitch of Maura's upper lip. "Don't tease," she said. "I take my caretaker duties very seriously. If you wanted Yo-Yo Ma in here right now, I'd go personally find him."

Maura laughed. "Yo-Yo Ma is for the jacuzzi only," she said. Bringing her hands to her face, she studied her wrinkled fingertips. "Ah, I guess you're right," she said. "We can move this party to the couch." She went to stand, shifting in the tub, unable to find a good angle to lift herself up on her good leg. Biting her lip, she tried again, her bandage dipping dangerously toward the water. Her struggle caught Jane's attention, and she studied her next unsuccessful attempt, which caused Maura to let out a frustrated groan.

"You need some assistance, there, Maur?"

Maura dipped her head back, resigned. "I should have thought this out better. Getting in is a lot easier than getting out."

Jane shook her head, smiling. "That's what they always say." She extended her hand. "Let me help you out." Of course, she would need to recite the alphabet or mutliplication tables in her head as she did so, just to keep her brain from imploding at the thought of pulling an entirely nude Maura out of a bubble bath. She swallowed as she took the submerged woman's hand.

"Don't look," Maura said as she lifted her right leg over the edge, and Jane smirked at her, using the opportunity to her advantage.

"Now who's being a twelve-year-old girl?" she teased, but secretly she wasn't pleased with Maura's instructions, as much sense as they made. Nevertheless, she gripped the smaller woman's arm and pulled her up out of the water with a small slosh, grabbing her wet hips quickly as Maura teetered on one leg and tried to gain her balance. Her hands fumbled along the slick surface of skin as the blonde crashed into her, and Jane managed to grab her arms, but found herself face to face with the very flesh she'd been trying to avoid.

"Hello," she said, her eyes widening before blinking quickly away and reaching for the towel on the back of the door. She wrapped it quickly around Maura, this time remembering to avert her gaze.

They both cleared their throats as Maura leaned against the sink, securing the towel over the breasts that had so recently made their debut into their friendship. "Oh, I got you wet," she said, causing Jane's head to snap towards her.

"What?" she asked nervously.

"Your clean clothes," Maura said quickly, this time covering her own verbal mistake as she pointed to Jane's damp t-shirt. "I got them all wet."

Jane felt her face flush. She needed to get out of that bathroom, her own thoughts steaming the mirror more than the hot bath water had. "I... am going to make lunch...?" she said, her voice escalating into a question.

"Okay," Maura agreed with a tentative nod, her skin prickling with goose bumps that had little to do with the cool air hitting her skin.

"Okay," Jane repeated, backing quickly out of the bedroom and nearly bounding into the living room. "Well played, Rizzoli," she muttered, stomping toward the kitchen.

The rainbow of fresh fruits and vegetables in Maura's refrigerator resembled the inside of a Whole Foods, its fresh stalks of green, rounds of red and sticks of orange immediately intimidating. Jane plucked a beer of out the door, a brand that Maura kept on hand solely for her, and popped it open, taking a few long gulps. The pause, however, only served to magnify the images pulsing through her mind: the round, full flesh, the warm, slick skin, the lavender scented suds. She tossed her head back, chugging the rest of the beer in a move she hadn't pulled since the 2009 Final Four championship.

Maura, meanwhile, stared into her bathroom mirror with a scrutinizing eye, examining the view she had accidentally bestowed upon Jane. She wasn't one to be self-conscious about the finer points of her own anatomy, but the dark brown eyes that had bored down at her a few moments earlier had sent her nerves working overtime. "It's just Jane," she murmured, but couldn't quite bring herself to glance up at the eyes that stared back at her.

Jane was familiar with Maura's sexual history with women, which, for the most part was as casual as her history with men. She had always been one to explore her curiosity, which hadn't ended with just the opposite sex. Never, though, had she felt such an emotional attachment to someone, male or female. At times she had a difficult time deciphering whether her attraction to Jane was simply that curiosity, or something more. She had never had a best friend, but she was generally sure that one didn't have sex with them. She sighed, pulling a pair of black satin pajamas out of a drawer and sinking onto her comforter, pulling them slowly over her hips, but unable forget the feel of Jane's hands on her.

Jane's voice called to her from the kitchen. "Maur, you hungry?"

"Famished," she called, getting to her feet and steadily making her way through the hallway. At this pace, Bass would beat her there.

Her kitchen counter was littered with the remnants of lettuce, tomato ends, and various scraps that hadn't made their way into the sandwiches Jane had prepared, which towered precariously on two plates.

"Wow," Maura said, taking a seat on a chair. "Those are high."

"Don't worry, you'll like 'em," Jane said with a grin. "My club sandwiches are always the breast."

Maura's eyes flashed upwards just as Jane's darted downwards, a wave of embarrassment passing from one to the other.

"The best," Jane corrected quickly, wiping her palms on her jeans. "My clubs. Best." She fumbled with their plates. "This is what happens when you see your best friend naked," she mumbled.

"Technically, I'm your breast friend," Maura said with a small twitch of her lip. Most of the time her attempts at humor went devastatingly awry, and she ended up playing the foil to Jane's wit, but she hoped this time would at least help set them both at ease.

Jane's laugh came out more as a sigh of relief as she slid their plates across the counter and took a seat next to Maura. "That was funny," she said.

"Was it?" Maura asked, pleased, as she turned her sights on the gigantic sandwich in front of her, gingerly picking it up and wondering how she would best manage it.

"Breast friends forever," Jane echoed, grinning as she took a bite of her own sandwich.

This time it was Maura's turn to laugh, and for the moment, at least, the two of them were simply grateful for the other's presence. They ate silently as the afternoon sun contined its arc toward the horizon, their quietness stemming from an intimate comfort rather awkward reticence. Jane smiled as she caught Maura concentrating on her sandwich before each bite, as if figuring out the best way to conquer it.

"Afraid of your sandwich, Maur?" Jane asked. "It's more frightened of you than you are of it."

"I am simply determining the best angle," she replied. "I don't want it coming apart on me."

Jane swallowed. Maura's words struck something inside her that had little to do with the sandwich. Had she been too rash in confessing her feelings toward Maura so soon? Maybe it was worth examining their relationship with the same scrutiny the blonde was now bestowing upon her food. After all, she didn't want to bite off more than she could chew. Maura simply meant too much for her to let what they already had collapse.

* * *

**Clearly, this isn't a one-shot anymore. We'll see where it goes, shall we? You all on board? Let me know what you think :)**

**And if you tumbl, make sure to let me know: emery3002 tumblr . com**

**Renconteur, my spell checker, who even caught 'corneum'.**


	4. Morning

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Four**

The sun had long ago dipped out of sight, and the television's low murmur provided a dull backdrop for the thoughts pulsing through Jane's mind. Maura's legs were draped over her lap, her white bandage a constant, bright white reminder of the danger they had been in the night before. Jane's fingers kept a smooth, calming rhythm over the satin pajama pants, a motion that had already lulled Maura to sleep, leaving her to contemplate their escape alone.

Jane tended to parse things out on her own, preferring solitary introspection over anything remotely resembling emotional sharing. The thought of losing Maura, of both of them drowning in that car, was something that she could process only in the recesseses of her gut. It was a visceral nausea that whirled inside her, overpowering the methodical thinking she took pride in as a cop. As her fingers trailed over the bandage wrapped around Maura's leg, covering the scars that she made, Jane couldn't help but focus on the internal scars created when she fired that shot at Paddy Doyle. She owed Maura more than a simple, weak apology. As she stared toward the television, only half listening, the familiar intro music to the nightly news caught her ear and she wondered how she'd managed to stay awake for it.  
_  
"Tonight: a national yoga retreat suspected of fracking in protected wilderness. Police are offering little comment, but Sensei Matta is suspected of harvesting fracking on its protected lands. It's not yet known whether those in charge were aware of the fracking, which is illegal under Massachusetts law. We will have more as the story progresses."_

Jane sighed and flicked off the television, aside the remote. Maura's head was turned toward the couch, her breathing deep and even, but she needed to be in the more comfortable setting of her own bed. Jane, of course, had more than her share of couches in the past twenty-four hours, and wanted nothing more than to slump onto one of Maura's expensive, tempurpedic mattresses. "Maura," she said lightly, her hand moving up to the sleeping blonde's hip, who remained still and oblivious. "Come on, Maura, it's time to wake up," she repeated, but this time her words had more than her desired effect; Maura launched upwards at the waist, her eyes suddenly open, wide, and fearful.

Jane put out a hand to steady her. "Whoa," she said, bracing Maura's shoulders and keeping a watchful eye on her leg. "Whoa, you okay?"

Maura's panicked eyes met hers. "That's what you said to me," she said shakily. "In the woods." She put a confused hand to her temple, as if probing her memory. "Was that part of my dream?"

The words suddenly came back to Jane, as did the chill of the night air and the crunch of leaves as they were confronted by Moore and his men. She swallowed back the same lump of fear that had lodged itself in her throat that night and let her arms trail down Maura's with a comforting rub. "Hey, it doesn't matter," she offered. "You're fine now. It was just a dream."

Maura's eyes held uncertainty, even as she nodded. "Dreams can help process traumatic memories," she said.

"I'm not sure I want to process anymore," Jane replied. "I'd rather just forget."

"REM sleep," Maura continued, proving that even amidst a half haze of sleep her capacity for scientific regurgitation was never compromised. "It allows for the increased reception of emotional memory consolidation."

"Well," Jane responded with a pat on her thigh, which was about all that her own depleted brainwaves could offer, "I don't think you're going to get much REM sleep out here."

The comment was meant as a shield against the sudden intensity of Maura's gaze, and it seemed to work as the blonde smiled lightly at her. "Good point. I'm guessing you've had enough sleeping on couches."

"Yeah, I'm ready to move on to guest beds," Jane returned as she extended a hand to help Maura off the couch. She handed over the crutches with a smile. "All right champ, show me what you can do."

Maura glanced suspiciously up at her as she tucked the crutches under arms. "I know you're teasing me," she said, one eye slightly narrowing.

"I would never tease a three-legged race champion."

"Yes, you would," Maura replied. "Out of jealousy." She tossed her hair as she brushed by the taller brunette, but was glad to have her presence behind her as she made her way slowly to the bedroom. Jane helped ease the fear still pulsing in her amygdala, which was slowly parsing itself out through physiological responses: the prickling sensation of goose bumps, the tensing of muscles, the dryness of her throat. She felt Jane's eyes on her as she slunk into the recesses of her bed, cringing slightly as she made herself as comfortable as possible.

Jane stood at the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, staring appraisingly down at her. "You need anything?" she asked.

Maura shook her head, but patted the space next to her. "Come sit with me awhile?" she asked, the walk to the bedroom awakening some neurons and giving her a small, but anxious second wind.

The invitation was not an unusual one for either of them, but as Jane sank into the sheets next to Maura, she felt slightly dishonest. The secret she harbored, the one that she had been trying to sort out, threatened her enjoyment of even the most casual rituals with her friend. Still, she worked to keep her face natural as she turned on her elbow, facing Maura.

The blonde reached out with a studied, practiced hand, pushing a lock of dark brown hair behind Jane's ear in a surprisingly gentle touch. "You should put some Neosporin on that cut," she said, peering at the gash above her head. "The neomycin really does help with the closure of the wound."

"I will remember that," Jane said. "What are you, a doctor or something?" She gave a sarcastic grin before turning her attention toward some point on the far wall.

Maura sat up slightly, leaning her back against the headboard as she studied the woman beside her. Jane was a creature of distraction at times, pushing her thoughts into the recesses of her subconscious mind. It was only the telltale circling of the scars on her hands, a gesture that Maura had observed many times over, that let her know that internally Jane was struggling just as much as she was. If she could simply wade around in those thoughts for a day she might come to understand Jane better.

"Why do keep looking at me like that?" Jane asked, breaking her out of her short psychological study.

"Like what?" Maura's eyebrows raised innocently, wrinkling her forehead.

"Like I'm some sort of specimen under your microscope."

The blonde bit her lip, blinking away for a brief second before finally offering a response. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Jane touched a finger lightly to the cut above her temple, misunderstanding the question. "Yeah, it's just a scratch. It's my back that's killing me. Thank you, Massachusetts West General Hospital."

Maura shook her head, unsurprised by the dodge. "Jane," she chastised, a tone the brunette was used to hearing, but not with such a serious glint. She stared up at Maura, prompting her to continue, which she finally did after a quick, uncharacteristic fidgeting of her fingers. "I just - I just wonder how you cope so well with things."

Jane smiled despite the halting dread lurching inside her stomach. "Oh, so you're a psychologist now?" she asked.

"Psychiatrist, technically," Maura corrected. "I have the power to prescribe."

"Is that like your power to persuade?" Jane asked with a sideways grin.

"Humor is clearly one of your best coping mechanisms," Maura pointed out needlessly.

"True," Jane echoed, wondering exactly where Maura was going with her sudden psychoanalysis. Probing questions generally meant she was working through her own feelings and trying to make sense of them  
with some sort of control for comparison. Clearly, in this short experiment, Jane was the control. "What brings all this up?"

Maura looked over at her, her eyes widening with the slightest tinge of incredulity. "What do you mean, what brings this all up? We almost drowned last night."

"But, we didn't."

"No, I know," Maura replied, never one to abandon rational and logical thinking. Since that night at the firehouse, however, her thoughts had strayed from her usual methodical patterns into a kaleidoscope of emotions. "I'm just having feelings, that's all. There's not much in the way of logic that helps one decipher the meanings of a near-death experience." She wrung her hands, wondering whether to take her confession a step further. "I had the same problem after that night with Hoyt at the hospital."

"Why do you keep bringing up that night?" Jane asked, shifting into a sitting position, her thumbs continuing their steady pattern over the scars at her palms. Her tone wasn't accusing nor suspicious, but it held a small bud of anxiety that threatened to bloom in her chest. She caught Maura's eyes on her fingers and quickly stuffed them into her lap.

"Because we never talked about it," Maura replied lowly, unsure of whether she was crossing some sort of boundary. "Not even that night, after your birthday."

"What is there to discuss?" Jane asked. "We crossed paths with a psychopath, we survived, and he didn't. There's no reason to analyze it." She had done enough of that after her first brush with Hoyt. Granted, it had been department-ordered as a requirement for returning to the field, but she had dissected every word Hoyt had ever said to her, finally fully unraveling the fear that coiled through her at the mere mention of his name. Even with that level of self-awareness, however, it hadn't it occurred to Jane that Maura might need to do the same thing. "I'm sorry I put you in danger, Maura, I truly am. But - "

Maura interrupted her with a confused shake of her head. "You didn't put me in any danger," she said. "You think that's what this is about?"

"He wouldn't have gotten to you if you hadn't been with me that day," Jane responded, her voice cracking with fatigue. "The same with yesterday. If you hadn't been with me - "

"Your mother forced me into the car with you," Maura pointed out, disbelievingly. "Do you want me to go blame her?"

"Why not?" Jane asked, attempting humor as she lay her head back on the pillow, the two of them now side by side. "I blame her for everything."

"Jane, none of this is your fault," Maura assured her, glancing over at her, but the brunette's eyes were glued to a point along the ceiling above them.

"Yeah," Jane sighed noncommittedly. "Look, Maur, it's late, we're exhausted. How about we save this for another time, okay?"

"Why do you keep everyone at such a distance?" Maura questioned softly. Her relationship with Jane was one of the most intimate she'd had, and yet at times she still felt walled off, as if the brunette was hiding one last piece of herself.

"I don't keep you at a distance, Maura, look how close we are," Jane said with a half-grin, motioning at the minute slice of space between them.

Maura grabbed her hand, giving it a deliberate squeeze, and although it caught Jane off guard, she couldn't help but clutch it just as desperately. "I just want you to open up to me," Maura said quietly. "Sometimes it helps me to know you're not just super woman."

Jane ran her thumb lazily over the bumps of Maura's knuckles. "I'm not super woman," she admitted. "I was scared to death in that car." She snuck a glance at the blonde, whose eyes seemed like a reflection of her own: slightly frightened, hazy with weariness. "Want to know why I was afraid?" she asked. "When that water started rushing around us, and you were half out of your mind... I was so afraid that I would never get a chance to tell you how much you mean to me. Or how sorry I am that I hurt you."

Maura squeezed her hand, just slightly, but enough to give Jane some acknowledgment as they let the silence build around them. "You wouldn't have needed to," she said, turning her head toward her. "I already know."

Jane shook her head. "I still should have said it."

"Jane, I don't blame you for what happened that day at the fire station," Maura offered as she followed the brunette's gaze toward the ceiling, the white expanse providing some calmness to their exchange. "I just needed you there at the hospital. And you weren't there. I was confused." She swallowed, remembering the ache that had weighted her chest for the past week. "And I wondered why people had friends at all if they could end up hurting you that much."

"Well, friends do serve a purpose," Jane said. "They motivate you to jog when you don't feel like it. They help you pick out the right dress for the right date..."

Maura smiled over at her. "They perform leg-saving fasciotomy when you need it."

"See, all good reasons," Jane said with a laugh. "Definitely worth the hard parts, right?"

"Jane, I'm sorry, too."

"Now this is an apology," Jane said with an approving smile as she gave Maura's hand a final squeeze. They lay silently for a moment, both staring upwards.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight," Maura said.

"Why, nightmares?" Jane asked.

Maura shook her head. "No, the supine position," she said, pointing to down at her leg. "It's uncomfortable. The best sleeping position is on your side. It facilitates optimal oxygenation of the blood."

"Maur, as long as you're breathing, that's all I care about." Jane lay a moment longer before clearing her throat, dreading her next words before she even uttered them. "I guess I should mozy on over to my awaiting guest throne," she said.

Maura let her hand brush the denim shorts Jane still wore. "You can't sleep in those," she said disapprovingly.

"Why, is denim not good for oxygenation, either?" she asked.

"Theres no official determination, but my own anecdotal research says that it isn't," Maura answered with a grin that demonstrated she knew fully well the brunette was making fun of her. "I have some pajamas in the drawer over there."

Jane padded over to the bureau, opening the drawer and peeking into a cavern of folded silk. "Jesus, Maur, do you have any normal pajamas?" she asked.

"You don't like my pajamas?"

"I like them on you," Jane clarified, raising a gold pair of pants out of the drawer. "Not on me." She cleared her throat, pointing over her shoulder toward the hallway, still attempting to prolong her eventual departure toward the guestroom. "I'm a heavy walker, but a light sleeper," she said. "If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

Maura swallowed, straightening in the bed. "Are you sleeping in the guest room?"

Jane eyed her, toeing a line that was suddenly new to her. "Yeah. After all, you're the only woman I know that puts mattresses made of clouds in every room of her house."

"You would be just as comfortable in the guest bed," Maura agreed with a deliberate nod.

"I thought so," Jane cut in, forcing a smile. If anything, space would probably do her some good, but that did nothing to ease the sudden emptiness in her stomach.

"But I would be more comfortable with you here," Maura said almost shyly, her eyes blinking up at Jane and rendering the brunette's legs almost as useless as her own.

"Yeah?" Jane asked softly, her voice disappearing somewhere in her throat.

Maura answered with a nod, pulling the sheets on the other side of the bed down. "As long as you don't kick," she warned with a raised finger as she pointed toward her leg. "Tonight of all nights."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jane replied, eyeing the gold satin pants again. She dipped inside Maura's bathroom and pulled them on, tightening the string around her waist. They didn't look half bad, although the gray v-neck she wore didn't do much to jazz them up. But as she glanced down, she grimaced. "Maur?" she called as she stepped out of the bathroom. "Are these petites?"

Maura looked up at her and muffled a laugh with her fist as her eyes gazed down at the hem of the pants, which hovered somewhere above Jane's ankles. "Capris are coming back," she said, feigning seriousness as Jane sashayed over to her and slid into the bed.

"Ugh," Jane said with a frown. "I don't know how you sleep in this material. One false move and I feel like I'll slip out of the bed."

Maura swatted her shoulder. "If you're going to complain all night, then just take them off," she said with a laugh.

"Is this how you seduced all those girls at the slumber parties you went to?" Jane asked, recognizing that her question wasn't as facetious as it sounded.

Maura swallowed, but rolled her eyes, taking a cue from the brunette beside her and distracting herself with a bit of humor. "Good night, Jane," she answered, rolling her eyes.

"Good night, Maura."

The two of them lay awake silently, but only for a few moments, their tired bodies quickly succuming to a long, much-needed uninterrupted sleep. It was only the perky, off-beat chirping of a few morning birds that finally stirred Jane awake, and she awoke abruptly, the sun suddenly too bright against her eyes. Her arm was draped across Maura's stomach, moving easily with the motion of the blonde's breath. She slid quietly off the bed, a move made easier by the slick silk that covered her bottom half.

Making her way to the front door, she poked her head out of it, a subtle unease settling into her stomach as she caught sight of the unmarked car still sitting outside the house. It was a different unmarked, but as she squinted she recognized the two men inside as a couple of of beat cops that she usually ran into only at the precinct cafe. She walked authoritatively toward them, seemingly unbothered by their reticent gazes toward her glossy pants.

"Nice, Rizzoli," one of them said with a nod toward her attire. "I knew you had a feminine side somewhere."

She leaned down to the windowsill. "Fuck off, Bentley," she said. "You boys on morning duty?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're here til noon," he replied. "Was told there wasn't much movement last night."

"Yeah, well listen to me," she said, her eyes suddenly darker. "You see anything that looks remotely suspicious, I don't care if it's the fucking mailman, you check it out with me. Got it?"

Bentley nodded stoically, glancing behind her toward the house. "Yeah, we got it, Rizzoli," he said. He looked back down at her pajama pants. "We're not letting anyone get anywhere near that doctor of yours."

She started to protest, but instead enjoyed the momentary feeling of protection that flitted through her as she straightened and tapped an authoritative hand along the car's windowsill. "Good," she said, confident that her admonishment had at least reminded the two of them that this particular excitement wouldn't just simply be an excuse to litter their squad car with fast food. Despite her skepticism that Moore would try anything, she couldn't help the small nag of doubt at the base of her neck. On her way inside the house, she bent down to pick up the rolled up newspaper at her feet, slipping it out of its plastic sheath as she made her way back into the kitchen, a feeling of domesticity not lost on her.

She eyed Maura's coffee maker, which looked way too complicated for her tastes, but she gave it a try, dumping an inordinate amount into the filter and hoping for the best. A shuffling scuff next to her caused her to jump, but she exhaled at the sight of Bass tottering his way over to her. She glanced around the counter before looking back down at him. "What the hell am I supposed to feed you, buddy?" she asked.

"There are some lotus leaves in the refrigerator," Maura said as she made her way into the kitchen, wearing a green wrap dress more suited for New York fashion week than a humdrum recovery at home.

"Well hello there," Jane said, eyeing the dress she wore. "You look like you're ready for the cover of Handicapped Times Magazine."

"I'm not going to sit around in pajamas all day," Maura replied confidently, wielding her crutches as if they were complementary accessories.

"No, much better to sit around in uncomfortable clothing," Jane returned, although secretly she wasn't complaining. "But either you way, you will be sitting around all day if I have anything to do with it. You want some breakfast?" She peered into Maura's refrigerator, at least not as intimidated by it this time around. "Can I offer you some bread that resembles tree bark? Or perhaps some juice that looks like pureed mud?"

"I'll just grab some yogurt and granola," Maura said confidently, heading toward the fridge. Jane politely turned her away, ushering her towards a chair and pressing her firmly into it. For someone who enjoyed her share of pampering, she had expected Maura to be more obedient.

"Explain to me how you can let someone massage you and cover you in mud, but you won't let me take care of you," Jane asked with a grin.

"Well, I pay for it," Maura explained casually. "It's different."

Jane grinned into the container of yogurt she opened, spooning a healthy amount into a bowl. "So you're saying you enjoy it more when you pay for it?" she asked, unable to allow the joke to pass her by, no matter how juvenile.

"Yes," Maura responded adamantly, as usual, oblivious to the finer workings of her friend's adolescent humor.

Jane laughed as she set the bowl of yogurt and granola in front of Maura. "You know, you're the only person I know who still gets her newspaper delivered," she said, spooning out her own breakfast with a disappointed frown.

"I feel obligated," Maura said. "The institution of journalism is an important one and I don't feel as if I'm doing my civic duty unless I'm accurately compensating the minds behind it."

"Right," Jane said, taking a seat next to Maura and sliding the front page of the paper closer to her. Her eyes scanned the page, stopping on a small article at the bottom. "Sensei Matta got front page coverage," she said with a frustrated sigh as she read through the text. "I wonder if all publicity is good publicity."

Maura leaned over, inspecting the article, which seemed to offer nothing new about the case. She turned her attention to Jane instead, who was chewing her lower lip as she read it, unable to keep her the gears in her mind from manifesting in some physical sign of frustration.

"They don't have any leads on Moore," Jane reported, tossing the paper aside. Her nervous tick was now in the form of her spoon tapping against her bowl. "I don't think he left Massachussetts," she said. "I think he has too many loose ends to tie up."

"Like us?" Maura asked.

Jane shook her head, hoping to offer some reassurance. "No. More like business loose ends. Closing the wells, making sure he can't be connected to anything. Don't you think if he had one fracking site, he could have more?"

"It's possible," Maura said with a nod. "Massachusetts has a ton of protected land. He could have operations on a number of sights in hopes that one of them were more successful than the others. Or places where he disposed of the fracking water itself."

Jane glanced around for her phone, hopping out of her chair and plucking it from the counter. "Korsak and Frost need to start surveying the rest of the retreat's sights," she said, attempting to type in a message, but unable to navigate the cracks across her screen. "This is useless. I need to see about getting us both phones today. Especially you."

Maura smiled at her, letting her eyes trail down the brunette's torso and take in the wholeness of her morning attire. "I know you'd rather be at the precinct working on this," she said knowingly. "Why don't you go? I'm not going to keep you here."

"No," Jane replied adamantly, shaking her head and sitting back down. "No, I can let Korsak and Frost do their jobs," she said. "I'm here with you."

"I'm sure you've already been outside once this morning to rail against those poor police officers. You can't lay off if there's a case to solve, Jane."

Jane's mouth dropped open for a second, and she had a hard time summoning a reply, instead focused on exactly how Maura had come to know her so well in the space of a few years. It had taken Angela Rizzoli a lifetime to perfect that mantra. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm staying right here."

Maura raised her eyebrows at her. "Well, then. There's a documentary series on the dissection of viscous fluid in the pancreas that I've been meaning to watch. You'll like it. The live parts can be quite riveting." She saw Jane cringe, slopping her spoonful of yogurt back into her bowl. "In fact, you have no idea how high the CEA levels are in a pancreatic cyst."

Jane sighed, letting a spoonful of yogurt slop into her bowl and pushed her breakfast away from her. "There are less gross ways to make your point, Maura," she said.

"I'll be fine, Jane," Maura assured her. "I'd feel better if I knew you were out there trying to find Moore than simply spending the day with Bass and me."

Jane looked at her, knowing better than to ask if the blonde was telling the truth. "If you even for a moment need anything," she began. "A glass of water, a pain killer, anything, you call me, okay?"

"Go," Maura said with a grin. "But not before changing out of those clothes."

Jane rose with a smile. "You don't think Korsak owns a pair of these himsef?" she asked, but then grimaced at the image her words invoked. "I won't be longer than a few hours," she said.

"Don't worry," Maura said, focusing her attention back on her yogurt.

"Stay off the leg?" Jane asked, pressing a hand against the blonde's shoulder as she stood.

"Of the leg, on the crutches," Maura promised, tilting her head up with a smile.

Jane leaned over and pressed a kiss atop of Maura's head. It was a natural gesture, a move she hadn't even processed before completing, and she shared a surprised smile with Maura. "I'm going to change," she said, pointing needlessly toward the bedroom, enjoying the sense of fulfilled stability that flooded through her as she glanced over her shoulder at Maura, who bent her head over the paper, reading with a concentration only she could summon at such an early hour.

* * *

On the way to the precinct Jane kept her eyes in her rearview, paranoia prickling the hairs on the back of her neck, but she saw only the usual crabby mess of Boston drivers behind her. She walked into the precinct with her usual air of authority, sauntering behind her desk and ignoring the surprised glances of her colleagues.

Frost rolled his eyes as she loomed over him. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be taking a day."

"Nice to see you, too, partner," she said with a grin as she slapped him jovially on the back. "I'm here because I want to find that bastard."

Korsak walked over to her, frustrated, but clearly unsurprised that she had disobeyed his orders. It was an exasperating trait, but he knew that's what made her one of his best detectives. "Don't make this personal, Jane."

"Are you kidding, that's when I do my best work," she teased. "How strong is the case against him once we bring him in?"

"Without you and Maura's testimony? Weak. There's nothing tying him to this business or the well, which is owned by a subsidiary of a seemingly non-existent oil firm. Nothing even placing him there besides the yoga retreat, and no jury's going to convict him because of that." Korsak looked at her. "You two are our case. You put him at the scene, you got his confession."

"So you'll need both of us, plus a little more evidence on the side," she said thoughtfully as she took a seat behind her desk. "Maura said something this morning about disposal site. That would be have to be someplace with at least some sort of infrastructure, right?"

"Yeah, but fracking is illegal here, which means they're not disposing of the fluids at any state-run facility or a conventional treatment center," Frost said. "Trust me, I've learned more about fracking in the last twenty-four hours than I ever thought I would."

"But money has got to be changing hands somewhere," Jane said, putting a fist underneath her chin in thought. "That may be the angle we use to get that last piece of evidence against Moore." She looked over at Korsak. "Let me talk to the two guys in custody."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if we do catch this guy, I don't want the investigation looking remotely biased. You're not on this case anymore, Jane. You're a witness now, and that's all I need you to be."

Jane rolled her eyes and flipped on her computer in straight defiance of Korsak's words. "Well, then, is it all right if this witness volunteers her time to search through some records on treatment facilities in bordering states?"

Korsak frowned, shaking his head as he took his place behind his own desk. "I'm not authorizing this."

Jane smiled at him. "But you're turning a blind eye."

He nodded, unwilling to argue. "I'm turning a blind eye," he confirmed, choosing to ignore the grin that Jane shared with her partner. "But, I would check out the private facilities, too. Chances are if he's disposing of fracking chemicals, the oil companies own subsidiaries to take care of the mess. He could have any number of options to help him get rid of his waste."

Jane grinned, hunching toward her computer, finally able to exert the anxious energy that had plagued her since the day before. If she kept her head down long enough, she could possibly convince Korsak to let her perform an interview of her own. If she could simply get into a room with the two suspects they caught, she may learn something. Half the time it was what a perp didn't say that told her what she needed to know.

A couple of hours later she had managed to catalog a page-long list of possible sites, which meant a page-long of possible paper trails to Moore. Now, of course, she had to convince Frost and Korsak to allow her to ride along on the site visits, which was more than likely a long shot. Before she could raise the question, however, she bristled at the sound of her mother's voice behind her, which bellowed loud and clear across the precinct.

"Jane Clement - "

Jane turned quickly toward her mother, holding up a finger. "Don't you say it," she warned with a quick glance at Frost and Korsak. "Not here."

Angela stalled, but she crossed her arms over her aproned chest. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home recovering."

"If you haven't noticed, Ma, I'm fine," Jane said, doing a full on turn for her mother, a move she hadn't done since Angela made her dress up for a Miss Boston pageant at the age of five.

"You're not fine," she replied. "Why don't you ever give yourself a break?"

Jane glanced down at the files she was parsing. "Because there is no break, Ma. Not yet." Until they caught up with Moore, the last thing she would be doing was giving herself a break.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking care of Maura?" Angela asked.

Although Jane felt she was doing more to take care of Maura by looking for the crazy man that had tried to kill the two of them, she kept her mouth shut, instead hoping to assuay her mother with kindness. "I am, Ma," she replied as she caught a glimpse of Frankie wandering into the precinct behind her. "I'm going to take her some lunch in a little while."

"Don't bother," Frankie said."Tommy is on his way to Maura's with lunch."

A territorial feeling coursed through her as she snapped her head toward Tommy. "What?"

Angela cut in. "He was taking the two of you a couple of sandwiches from Willy's. Now that he's not spending his days undertaking anymore, he's got some free time on his hands. And I asked him to move some of my things back into the guest house."

Jane nodded, darting a look at Frost and Korsak, hoping her unease wasn't showing to her colleagues. "Uh huh."

Frankie, however, eyed her, raising an eyebrow. "That get your goat, Jane?"

"No," she said with a shake of her hand. "They can both share their crappy sandwiches together." She paused, but still felt both her mother and brother's eyes on her. She rolled her eyes, not particularly enjoying the idea that she could be read as easily as a children's book. "You guys want to let us get back to work, please?" she asked impatiently, fingering a random folder on her desk. She wondered how exactly Tommy would stay for lunch. Her finger nipped impatiently at the edge of the page.

Korsak glanced over at Frost, who shook his hands and raised his hands, unwilling to be the one to notify Jane that her services were much better spent away from the case than on it. Jane tapped her fingers along the top of her desk, biting her lower lip. The last thing she wanted was Maura feeling vulnerable around Tommy. Or falling asleep with her legs draped across his lap. She stood, abruptly, pushing her chair away from her desk. "You know what?" she said, glancing at Korsak and Frost. "I'll be back in an hour."

Korsak looked up at her, masking his amusement. "Oh?"

"I'm just going to run out and grab a bite to eat," Jane explained. "And see about a new phone. So that you losers can keep me updated about the case you're taking me off of."

She had every intention of picking up lunch. What she didn't say, however, was that she had every intention of taking it back to Maura's in hopes of interrupting whatever lunch date her brother was attempting to create.

* * *

**If you like, please be kind and leave a review. If you don't like, please be kind and leave a rant ;) You have no idea how much I appreciate both!**

**Ren, thanks for the read-through!**


	5. Confession

**Chapter Five**

Maura jumped at the sound of her doorbell. Thanks to Moore's escape, what was usually a rather normal domestic interruption now caused the quickening of her pulse and a nervous lurch of her stomach. She slowly pulled herself up from the kitchen table, leaving a scattering of printed maps and notes behind. Certainly researching Moore's fracking site for the last hour hadn't helped her nerves. Her heart didn't slow until she spied Tommy's familiar face outside her front door.

"Tommy," she said with a surprised smile. "What are you doing here?"

He held up a brown paper bag almost transparent with grease. "I brought you lunch," he said with a wide grin as he stepped inside. "You know you got cops out there watching you?"

"Yes," Maura replied with a nod, catching a glimpse of the unmarked car as Tommy closed the door. "They're just keeping an eye on things for a few days. Just as a precaution."

"Well, they certainly aren't friendly," he complained, shrugging as he straightened his t-shirt.

Maura gave him a sympathetic turn of her head, but took some comfort in the knowledge that the cops keeping watch outside her home were doing their job, even if it did mean giving Tommy a hard time. "What's in the bag?" she asked, hoping to change the subject to something lighter. With Tommy, the feat wasn't too difficult; he was a wiz at chess, but less so in the fine art of conversation.

"Cheese steaks," he said proudly, setting the bag on the clean counter and prompting Maura to hastily pick it back up and set it on a nearby cutting board.

"Grease," she explained politely, running a hand over the small wet spot the bag left behind. "Thank you, though," she said. "It looks - " she paused as Tommy heaved an exceptionally heavy sandwich out of its wrapping and set it on a plate. "It looks lovely."

"These are the best phillys in Boston," he said, licking his thumb. "Jane, Frankie, and I used to beg for these babies when we were kids."

"I can imagine," Maura said, warily eyeing her second sandwich in less than twenty-four hours.

"Jane here?" he asked casually.

"No, she stopped by work for a little while..." She trailed off, her explanation forgotten as she watched Tommy plop another sandwich on a plate, its innards spilling out of it. She glanced wearily down at the new dress she was wearing. "Do you mind passing me a knife and fork?" she asked.

He grinned at her, and nodded. "Of course. Wouldn't want anything to get on that dress. You look remarkable for someone who spent a night in the woods."

She offered him a demure smile, but nothing further, hoping that her last decline of his advances back in her office would suffice. Tommy, however, was nothing if not persistent. "You know, Tommy, I appreciate how kind you are, but I think I should clear - "

They both balked at the sound of a key in the lock and Tommy was immediately on his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans as he made his way to the door with an authority that only a Rizzoli could command. Maura breathed a sigh of relief as Jane popped her head in, pushing the door shut with her foot.

"Well hello," the brunette said, smiling saccharinely at Tommy. She held up a large paper bag emblazoned with the logo of Maura's favorite French restaurant, which, incidentally, had no grease marks marring its surface. "I brought over a quick lunch." She moved towards the kitchen island, already noticing the pleased twitch of Maura's mouth.

"I already got lunch," Tommy said, gesturing toward the sandwiches.

"Ah," Jane said, running her eyes longingly over the plates, but kept her tone lackadaisical. "How quaint." She glanced inside her own bag, which held a plethora of dishes, none of which she felt fully qualified to describe, but she hadn't rehearsed the names for twenty minutes not to give it a try. "I just picked up a couple of dishes of Coq Au Vin and Assiette du Fromache."

Maura's eyebrows perked; she hadn't expected Jane to remember her favorite dish, much less be able to pronounce it.

"Put it in the refrigerator," Tommy said. "We're perfectly happy with our phillys." As if to emphasize his point, he took a large bite of his own.

Jane clunked three small containers out on the counter, cringing only slightly as she caught site of what was inside of one of them. "Mmm, look at this," she said. "Coq Au Vin and... she lifted the container, staring confusedly into it. "Something else tasty." She leaned over and took a large bite of something covered in a dark brown sauce.

Tommy smirked at her, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Go right ahead," he said gloatingly. "I'll just be over here enjoying a juicy, cooked-to-perfection steak."

"That's fine," Jane said, dipping a fork into a slab of meat and scooping it into her mouth, hunching over so as to catch any drippings. "Mmm," she said with an exaggerated lick of her finger. "This is amazing."

Tommy pursed his lips before taking another large bite of his sandwich, now almost halfway through with it in his quest to best his sister at her own game. Jane caught up with him, slipping another forkful of buttery carrots into her mouth and wiping her chin with her sleeve.

They continued their slow gastronomic duel as Maura watched, open-mouthed, her forehead crinkling in distress at the increasingly messy contest in front of her. Although she had seen firsthand what could happen to a clan of Rizzolis when eating together, she had never witnessed anything quite this primal.

Jane glanced down at Maura, blinded by a competitiveness and jealousy that could only be brought out by a sibling. "Maura, which would you prefer?" she asked.

"No pressure," Tommy echoed, but as the two of them stared darkly at each other and then at her, Maura couldn't help but exhale nervously.

"They're both very thoughtful," she began, but paused as she looked at both of the expectant faces staring down at her. "If you'll excuse me, I think I need to use the restroom." She rose slowly, unsure if her exit had even been noticed by Jane or Tommy, but she was more than ready to let the two of them sort out whatever sibling issues they were having on their own.

Jane waited until Maura was out of sight before dropping her spoon back into the takeout container, smattering a few drops of brown sauce onto the counter. "What the hell are you doing over here?" she asked him.

"What's your big idea?" he asked. "Why are you trying to trump my lunch?" He waved toward the French bag. "With stuff you don't even eat."

"Because I'm the caretaker," Jane emphasized. "And it's my job to care... take... of lunch."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "If that's true, then why did you rush off to work this morning? That part of your caretaker duties, too?"

Until Moore was caught, she did consider it part of her duty towards Maura, but she didn't want to go into it, not after the lack of progress they'd made in tracking him down. "I just think you need to lay off," she said. "Maura's not interested. And she doesn't need some meat neck chasing her around."

Tommy laughed. "I'm not trying anything," he said. "I think she's made it clear that she's not interested in anything right now." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't keep trying to be her friend."

She smacked him on the back of the head, without reason, but simply because she could. "I know what 'trying to be her friend' means," she said with a sneer. "She's my friend, Tommy, for fuck's sake, just lay off."

"You're just mad because in high school Donna Stevens ended up hanging out with me more than she did with you," he said. "But did you see me get mad when Raymond O'Dell was trying to take you to prom? Nope."

She smacked him again. "No, you didn't get mad because you're a horrible brother," she said. "I didn't want him coming anywhere near me and you didn't stop him at all." She shook her head, frustrated at the path down memory lane they had forged. "That's not the point. The point is that I don't want you trying anything with Maura."

"I don't get it," he said with a shake of his head and a perplexed grin that almost made Jane want to reach up and smack him a third time. "I'm just having a little fun. What's the problem? Maura and I are both adults." He turned his attention back to his sandwich. "You act like you're in love with her or something." He paused mid-bite, looking up at her with a sudden, dawning awareness. "Oh shit."

Jane rolled her eyes, but it was her brief hesitation, that quick moment of panic as Tommy looked at her that gave her away.

"Shit, you're in love with her," he repeated, putting down his sandwich and staring at her.

"I am not," Jane insisted, keeping her eyes from him.

"Wait, is Maura bisexual?" he asked thoughtfully. "That's kind of cool."

Jane pursed her lips at him. "Why don't you ask her if you're so curious?"

"Sounds like you're the one that needs to ask her," he said. "Not me." His face became stoic, his eyes darkening with seriousness as he wiped his hands on a napkin. "Look, Janey, I'm not trying to pry or anything, but if you're attracted to Maura, you gotta tell me."

"And why is that?" Jane asked, annoyed.

"Because then we're talking about a different code of conduct," he answered officially. "You don't go after the same girl that your brother... or sister... is interested in. Those are the rules."

"Is there no rule that just says, 'Listen to your sister when she asks you not to sleep with her friends'?"

He shook his head earnestly. "Nah, there's no rule for that." Jane rolled her eyes, but Tommy wasn't done, and he looked up at her again, his eyes narrowing in thought. "What makes you think she feels the same way about you?" he asked. The question was sincere, and Jane could tell it wasn't meant as a dig, but it dislodged something in her chest.

"Why can't she be into me?" she asked, her face flushing with heat that burgeoned more from confusion than anger. "Not every girl's fantasy is Tommy Rizzoli, convicted felon." She hung her head as soon as the words penetrated the air, but still caught the brief flash of hurt in her brother's eyes. "Sorry, Tommy, that wasn't cool," she said with what she knew was a weak apology.

"No, it wasn't," he said, his jaw hardening, but after a moment it wavered. "Must mean you got it pretty damn bad."

He raised his eyes as Maura ambled back into the room and settling back into her chair, oblivious to the confession that had just transpired. She gave a pained smile as she appraised the table. "Ah," she said haltingly. "All the food is still here."

Tommy stood, tossing his napkin next to his plate. "You know what," he began, smiling briefly at Maura. "I'm going to head out."

Jane looked up at him, surprised. "What?"

Maura looked even more confused as she eyed the quarter of sandwich that Tommy had abandoned on his plate. "You didn't finish," she said.

"It's all right," he replied. "The plan was just to drop off lunch for the two of you, anyway. Jane, there's a third sandwich in the bag for you." He pressed his lips as he looked at her, and she hoped her eyes communicated the apology she couldn't verbally give him. He nodded toward her, then Maura, as he made his way toward the door, giving them both a slight wave as he exited. "Oh, Ma's back," he called. "Just giving you fair warning. I moved most of her stuff this morning."

Maura looked up at Jane as the door closed behind Tommy. "What just happened?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jane answered honestly, unsure of what had moved her brother to be so suddenly gracious. She moved to clean up some of the mess they had made, but Maura's hand caught hers with a smile.

"I think I'll have some," she said, pointing shyly to the French dishes. "It's my favorite."

"I know," Jane returned with a grin. She motioned toward the dining room table, which was scattered with maps and a couple of large books. "What's all that?" she asked. "You look like you're planning a voyage to the new world."

"Or at least Western Massachusetts," Maura replied, taking a bite of her preferred cuisine and giving a pleasurable moan of approval. "That," she explained, gesturing proudly toward the table, "is a series of topographical maps of each of western Massachusetts. I pulled out the ones that include property that Sensei Matta owns."

Jane walked over to the table and pulled one of the maps closer to her, inspecting it. "Right, we know where some of these are," she said. "Korsak and Frost have been researching it. But none of these places are aligned with any of the disposal sites you mentioned earlier. At least not the government-sanctioned ones."

"I assumed so," Maura replied, swiveling slightly in her chair and motioning for Jane to walk the map over to her. "But see this one?" she asked, pointing a neatly clipped nail along a meandering line west of Boston. "This is all shale underneath this ridge. It's the perfect condition for extracting natural gas with a horizontal method, which is what Moore practiced. And I checked with a Massachusetts environmental nonprofit and micro earthquakes have increased in this area over the past year."

"You think there's a chance Moore would have fled there?" Jane asked. "That's pretty obvious."

"Exactly," Maura said with an approving nod. "Which is why, looking at the map, there's another park rather off the grid. It's been ignored for years due to federal budget cuts and the maintenance has been minimal. But, it's the same ridge, just further down."

"Which means the same type of rock," Jane finished, nodding. "If Moore wanted to mitigate his losses and clean up his trail, he'd start here." She set the map down, putting her hands together with in a quick burst of adrenaline. "All right. I'll send this over to Korsak. Tomorrow we take another road trip."

Maura looked up at her, correcting her with a raised finger. "Tomorrow Frost and Korsak take a road trip," she said. "You're staying right here in Boston."

Jane frowned, but the worry in Maura's eyes made her keep her mouth shut, at least for the time being. Chances are Frost and Korsak wouldn't let her anywhere near the site, but that didn't mean she didn't want to slap handcuffs on Moore herself if they were lucky enough to find him. Or simply just slap him. Judging by the adamant purse of Maura's mouth, though, she'd be more likely to hear about Moore's arrest via phone.

"Ah," she said, remembering her other errand and fishing through a smaller bag on the counter. She handed over a new phone to Maura. "This is for you," she said. "Important numbers are already programmed, but it's up to you to add your nerd buddies. But I did download the Gray's Anatomy app for you."

Maura smiled, flipping it on. "You did?" she asked. "That's so sweet." Her head bent downwards for a moment in concentrated enthusiasm, her food abandoned, and Jane turned her attention to the blonde's leg.

"Hey, your bandage is slipping a little," she noticed, bending down to get a closer look at Maura's foot.

"Oh, there are high-resolution images!" Maura exclaimed, excitement rocking her shoulders.

Jane glanced up at her, pleased, and also a bit mystified by the finer points of what delighted her friend. "Maur, you want me to change this?" she asked, pointing back to the white gauze.

"Ah, yes, I was about to change it when Tommy came over," Maura replied, setting the phone down. "New dress, new dressing." She smiled at her joke, prompting a reluctant smile from Jane as well, which pleased her. "Everything's on the table over there."

Jane retrieved the handful of supplies, mentally inventorying them and making sure that she recalled Nurse Rhonda's directions. "Here," she offered, depositing the small pile of new gauze, tape, and ointment and pulling Maura's leg up to rest on the chair next to her. "Let me."

"No, it's okay," Maura said, stretching over her. "I can do it."

Jane reached over, grasping her hands. "Would you please just let me take care of you?" she asked, a slight plea behind her frustration, but she smiled in order to soften her words. "For once," she continued lightly.

Maura leaned back after a short pause, submitting and offering her leg fully. As her fingers undid the bandage, Jane braced herself for the grotesque reminder of her botched surgery. Dealing with such gruesomeness on a de-co was much different than seeing it on a live, breathing person, much less one for whom she cared so deeply. She twitched at the red, puffed skin around the incisions, a thin line of black stitches running down them. "Damn, I did a number on you," she said, her fingers hovering over the split skin. "Acrylic glass probably scars more than a scalpel, huh?"

"I'd rather have two scars than one leg," Maura replied pleasantly, leaning over and inspecting them with a clinical eye. "It looks good," she said. "We'll keep it dry for now, just a bandage and then - "

"I know," Jane cut in, looking up at her. "Do you remember Nurse Rhonda?"

Maura smiled and leaned back in her chair, allowing Jane to do the rest of her work unencumbered. When she was finished, the brunette's fingers trailed over her ankle, over the top ridges of her foot. "You have such tiny toes," she observed.

Maura cocked her head. "Well, in comparison to yours."

Jane raised an eyebrow at her. "Remind me to teach you how to accept a compliment," she said, but her hidden smirk belied her amusement.

"I wasn't sure if tiny toes were a compliment," Maura responded earnestly. "In the Cro-Magnonensis era, it was considered a privilege to have very large feet; in the Song dynasty, small feet were coveted. But toes, I am less certain about."

Jane simply stared at her, at times both amused and frightened by the blonde's thought processes. "I would just take it as a compliment," she summarized.

"Well then, thank you," Maura replied politely with a winning shake of her shoulders. Jane grinned at her, for a beat too long, and Maura's eyes suddenly shifted into curiosity.

"What?" she asked.

The question was at most a casual check-in, but it made Jane's smile suddenly disappear. Everyone around her was slowly discovering her feelings for Maura. Everyone, of course, but the person that needed to know. "I need to tell you something," she said uneasily.

"As long as it's another compliment," Maura answered with a smile, but it slowly faded as Jane stared back at her.

"We're friends, first," Jane said hastily. "Whatever I say, I don't want to mess that up."

Maura seemed startled by the sudden turn of the conversation and she pitched forward slightly, the lines around her mouth now deepening into a frown. "You're scaring me, Jane, what is it?"

"You think I'm generally a rational, sane person?"

Maura cocked her head. "Generally or right now?"

Jane shook her head, trying a different tact. "Doesn't matter." She took a deep breath. "How long have we been friends?"

"Three years, four months, and six days," Maura replied effortlessly.

Jane balked at the response, not suspecting such accuracy, but knew she shouldn't have been too surprised. "Right," she agreed, her own measurement of their friendship much less accurate.

"That's counting from that first lunch we had," Maura clarified. "If you count that day in the cafe when you were in vice, then I've technically known you for three years, six months, and seventeen days."

Maura's brain was threatening to overpower Jane's attempted heart to heart, and she raised a hand to interrupt her, but instead smiled as the blonde's words caught up with her. "You remember that first lunch?" she asked.

"Of course," Maura replied with a grin. "Your first day in homicide. I didn't get asked out to lunch very often."

"Appetite doesn't really surge in the morgue, no," Jane replied. "What was it you were craving that day?"

"Spaghetti."

"Right. After pulling out most of that de-co's intestines."

Maura laughed. "I couldn't help it; I had been craving it all week." She dipped her head for a moment, a flash of remembered insecurity coursing through her. "I don't think comments like that helped me get any lunch dates." Her eyes glazed over at the memory. Socializing with anyone, much less colleagues, had been difficult in her new position. She had heard detectives mumble "Queen of the Dead" whenever she walked through a crime scene. It hadn't bothered her much, but there was a small part of her, that same small part that had watched the girls of her equestrian team plan sleepovers and spring break trips, that wanted a slice of normal intimacy and connection. She shook herself out of her thoughts, peering at the woman who had quickly become that sought after piece of emotional connection. "But you came with me," she said, smiling.

"You were the strangest person I'd come across in a long time," Jane replied. "And I worked in vice." The sound of Maura's laughter was rewarding, reminding her of the first flashes of intrigue she'd had at that initial lunch. She had never been met with such unbridled honesty from anyone, and despite the blonde's somewhat insatiable fear of social contact, she had a studied love of humanity that struck something inside Jane. From that moment on, her life had changed.

The simple recollection was enough to loosen the words from her lips, and she felt them slide from her mouth before her brain could register them: "I love you."

Once they were out in the open, ready to be absorbed, she jumped to clarify them. "As a friend," she said quickly, words moving faster than her brain could compute them. "As a friend, but as more than a friend... ship should require... and - " She paused, taking a deep breath and attempting to right the crazy turn she'd taken. "I'm not saying any of this right," she said with a frustrated sigh.

Maura stared back at her with a pair of patient hazel eyes. "Correctly," she said automatically, unable to hold back the grammatical guidance, despite the inconvenience of the moment. "You're not saying any of this correctly." She shook her head, her hazel eyes clouding in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. Now is not the time for grammatical superiority - "

Acting on sheer will, Jane leaned forward, cutting her off and pressing her lips against Maura's. She was met with surprised reticence at first, but Maura's lips softened, slowly easing into the kiss. Their tongues tentatively teased one another, and Maura leaned slightly into her, allowing Jane to deepen her exploration.

Jane was suddenly too aware of her hands, which were posing a bit of a problem since she had no idea what to do with them. She settled for moving them up the length of Maura's arms, her fingers trailing the soft skin there before she took another step closer.

It was the sudden jerk of Maura's injured leg as Jane's hip brushed it that finally made her pull away, both of them slightly breathless and flushed from more than just the kiss. Despite the fact that Jane had made the first move, placing the risk squarely on her own shoulders, she waited, terrified, for Maura to speak.

"Jane," the blonde finally whispered, her fingers brushing across her lower lip. The uncertainty in her voice was enough to cause Jane's heart to plummet to her stomach.

"What's wrong?"

Maura's eyes were now alert with something more than lust or curiosity, and she paused, vetting her words. "Nothing is wrong," she replied quickly, but her hands stayed against Jane's shoulders as a barrier misaligned with her words.

"I'll take that as the truth," Jane said, bending lower to capture Maura's gaze, which she couldn't quite read. "Unless you tell me otherwise."

Maura could still taste the brunette on her tongue and could feel the remnants of the touch on her arms that had raised a series of goose bumps along her skin. She had studied Jane's lips before, imagining what it would be like to taste them, but had locked away that fantasy in the recesses of her subconscious. She depended on their friendship, more than anything, and guarded it closely, even from her own desires. Breaking that barrier had left her more frightened than any of the physical pain she'd had over the past two days. "Are we sure about this?" she asked.

The question was logical, but it didn't settle the pounding of Jane's pulse. "No," she replied, unable to offer nothing more than honesty. "I mean – yes," she corrected, shaking her head. All she knew, for certain, was that whatever had passed between them during that kiss, she wanted more of it.

Maura hung her head slightly, as if her thoughts weighed her down. "I just got you back," she softly, her eyes searching Jane's.

"I'd say you got a return on your investment," Jane said lightly, although her voice cracked with the effort.

Maura appeared daunted by her own reaction, as if unused to the feelings coursing through her. "You mean more to me than anyone," she managed. "I just don't want to do this out of some hurt, vulnerable place. Our friendship means too much to me. I need it too much to do anything to jeopardize it."

Jane would have preferred if Maura punch her in the stomach. With her dainty jabs, it would have hurt much less than her insightful words had, no matter how true they probably were. "I see," was all she could offer, her small utterance complemented by a large swallow.

"I think we need to talk about this," Maura continued, her voice urgently low, as if she could sense Jane pulling away from her. "Before we rush into anything. I - I don't want us to be confused about things."

"Confused," Jane repeated.

"No, I just meant that we've both been through a lot lately." She cringed, glancing down at her hands. "Now I'm saying things incorrectly."

"No, it's okay," Jane said, attempting to keep her voice steady, but with her efforts it came out flat and monotone. "I misread things, that's all." She stood abruptly, her movements slightly jerky, as if her joints were tight. "I'm going to get some air for awhile," she said.

"Jane, wait," Maura said, reaching for her, but the brunette dodged her hand, pulling away and leaving the blonde to stare down at her hand as if it were a weapon. But it was her words that had done the damage, and she was suddenly afraid that she wouldn't be able to take them back.

"No worries, Maur," Jane offered with an afflicted smile that she was sure came off more like a frown. "It was just a mistake, that's all." The blonde seemed truly hurt by the turn of dialogue, but Jane was struggling just to keep standing upright, and she moved toward the door on shaky legs.

"Jane, please don't walk away right now," Maura pleaded, her eyes clearly pained. Jane, lost in her own haze of hurt, could only manage exactly that as she turned for the door. "Jane," Maura said again, this time her voice raw.

Jane turned back to her. "It's fine," she said, her voice thick. "I just need some time, okay? Just - " she inhaled sharply, surprised by the tightness in her chest." Leave me alone for now."

She heard Maura say her name once more, but the pressure was building in her throat, preventing her from speaking. In an effort to finally take a step forward in their friendship, she had ended up jumping off a ledge, and she felt as if she were free falling, waiting for the hard slap of reality to inevitably hit her. She shut the door behind her, the air cool against the slow tear that leaked down her cheek.

She walked blindly, wishing she at least had darkness to hide behind, but the sun was still high in the sky mocking her stupidity. "Stupid!" she yelled as she banged her fist into the brick wall of the guest house, taking some satisfaction in the light red scrape across her knuckles. Taking a seat on the small stoop, she dropped her head in her hands. Her first instinct was to leave and indulge in a long drive, or hit up the shooting range, or even head to the gym for a quick go with a punching bag, but she wasn't comfortable leaving Maura alone.

She fished through her pockets, fumbling for the key to the guest house and wished she could summon some unbridled sense of anger. Instead, she only felt sadness and loss, which were two emotions she was much less adept at handling.

At the counter, Maura sat, unmoving, her lower lip trembling as sudden silence engulfed her. In an effort to preserve something special, she was terrified that she had effectively ended it. She let out a grunt of frustration as she picked up the crutch leaning against the table, and with a suddenly burst of internal anger she threw it down, its wood echoing against the floor.

Glancing at her new phone, Maura began to pull up Jane's name, smiling sadly at the picture the brunette had already programmed in for herself. Each vacant ring instilled in her a distinct sense of loss and she slid the phone away from her as the voicemail greeted her. One thing she had learned from studying the finer ticks of Jane Rizzoli over the years was that she would talk only when she was ready.

Groaning, she hobbled towards the crutches she had carelessly tossed away, the weight on her foot just less than bearable. The pain felt good for the brief moment before she tucked the apparatus underneath her arms and slowly made her way to the kitchen counter. The thought of food now made her nauseous and as she stood on one foot tucking the containers back in the bag she was surprised by the quick, violent sob that shook her shoulders.

With one fell swoop, she knocked the leftovers, the plates, the napkins, and utensils into the trash, wishing that her own mistake could be so easily swept away.

* * *

The sound of a key twisting in a lock pulled Jane out of her slumber and in her half haze she wondered how she had ended up sprawled on the couch in Maura's guest house with an empty wine cooler beside her. Her confused reprieve didn't last long, unfortunately, and she was flooded with the memory of what lead her there: confession, risk, and ruin all in the space of a few moments. The wine cooler had been the only thing she could find in her mother's refrigerator, but at least it had put her to sleep.

"Jane?" Angela questioned as she walked inside, carrying a duffel bag on one shoulder and a purse large enough to qualify as a duffel bag on the other. "What are you doing here?"

Jane looked up at her, wiping an angry hand across her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Tommy moved my things back for me. Why are you sitting on my couch?"

"Since when is it your couch?" Jane mumbled, but she got to her feet, brushing past her mother into the small kitchenette. Pouring herself a glass of water, she gazed out the window across the small walkway and into Maura's kitchen, the low light of dusk giving her a clear view. After a fretful nap and a few hours of perspective, she was afraid she had ruined one of the best things in her life.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked. "Why aren't you next door?"

Jane didn't look back at her, not wanting to share her red eyes. "I just needed some space."

"Is Maura over there?"

"No, Ma, she's out for a jog," Jane replied, her sarcasm the one thing not lost in her sadness. "Yes, she's over there."

"You two aren't arguing again, are you?" she said, her tone almost accusing.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Angela narrowed her eyes at her daughter in a way only a mother could, sizing her up. "You want me to make you a grilled cheese?"

Jane glanced up at her mother. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "No thanks, Ma. I'm just going to lie down for a little while." One heart to heart with her mother in one week was enough for her. She simply needed to be alone with her thoughts. She ignored her mother's gaze as she made her way toward the bedroom, plopping down on the bed with a groan.

Angela watched as her daughter slouched toward the bedroom, her shoulders drooping slightly backward and she cocked her head toward the window over her kitchen sink. If talking to Jane was out of the question, she would simply have to talk to Maura.

Setting her bags down, she peered into her cupboard, searching for something sweet to take over; Sid she wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was going on between her girls, she would need the added ammunition of comfort food. She settled in a package of chocolate chip cookies and tucked them under her arm. A sharp knock at the door startled her, but she was even more surprised to see Maura on her stoop, her crutches tucked daintily under her arms.

"Hi," the blonde said politely, cocking her head, as if making a formal visit. "Is Jane here?"

"Maura, what are you doing walking around?" Angela asked, her tone just one the verge of chastising.

"Is she here?" Maura asked again. "I really need to talk to her." The puffiness in her eyes mirrored the clouds Angela had seen under Jane's. Maura leaned harder on her crutch and she waved her quickly inside.

"I can't say whether she's here or not," Angela said loudly, but cocked her head towards the door at the far end of the room, jerking her thumb conspiratorially at it.

Maura nodded, giving her a small smile as she limped her way to the bedroom. Knocking lightly, she leaned her head against the door.

"Maura, I don't need a best friend right now, okay?" Jane called, her voice strained.

Maura chanced a look at Angela, somewhat embarrassed by their exchange, but the older woman gave her an encouraging nod. "Here," she said, handing Maura the pack of cookies. "She likes these."

"Ma, am I going to have to ask you to leave your own guesthouse?" Jane called through the closed door.

Angela frowned. "This poor woman is out here on crutches. You let her in, Jane Clemen - "

Before she could finish, the door lurched open, Jane scowling out at her mother before slumping wordlessly back into the bed. Maura took the invitation, closing the door behind her as she sat gingerly on the opposite side, an expansive quilt separating the space between them.

She could tell by Jane's frown that she wasn't going to speak first, so she broke the silence with a sigh. "I have cookies," she said, sliding the bag between them.

Jane eyed them for a beat before sliding it over and indulging in one, keeping her head low.

When she still didn't speak, Maura tried again. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Jane exonerated, fingering a chocolate chip with her nail. "You were just being honest."

"Was I?" Maura asked uncertainly, slipping a cookie for herself.

Jane nodded sadly. "You're you. Of course you were being honest." She took a deep breath, offering what had run through her mind over the past few hours. "Look, Maura, I got things a little mixed up in my head. You're someone that I love more than anything, and you're incredibly special, and... I don't want to lose you as my person - my friend - that I always go to, so... I'm sorry I put you in that position." One hand fumbled nervously at the comforter and she popped the cookie into her mouth as an excuse to stop speaking. She was hurt, but it would be nothing compared to losing her friend entirely.

Maura watched the nervous display, knowing it all too well. "Do you remember that night your mother set you up with Lieutenant Grant?" she asked.

Jane glanced up at her, smiling faintly at the memory. "Yeah. I ended up at the morgue with you. And a bottle of wine."

"And cheese."

"And morgue cheese, yes."

Maura bit her lower lip, unsure of whether to continue. "When you left that night, I thought about kissing you. I sat there and ate the rest of that cheese." She shook her head. "A physical response to an emotional stressor," she explained with a wave of her hand.

Jane couldn't help but ignore the emotional binge, instead focusing on the first part of the blonde's confession, the one that made her heart beat faster. "You thought about me like that?" she asked.

"And a number of times after that," Maura admitted. "I have a curious mind," she said with a shrug of her shoulder, as if that alone explained the fantasies she'd harbored about her friend. "What happened today didn't make me feel strange, or catch me off guard. My sexual attraction to you doesn't frighten me."

Jane's head snapped up at the continued explanation, but rather than push her luck any further, she tacitly took comfort in it. At least she wasn't alone in her attraction.

Maura paused, tracing a pattern on the quilt. "What I can't seem to come to terms with is the rest of what I'm feeling."

"What's that?" Jane asked, suddenly unsure if she wanted to find out. "Is it nausea?"

Maura laughed. "No. I read once, about the physiological response to love. Not sex, but love. It's a constantly shifting series of hormones, from lust to attraction to attachment. And it's dynamic; it's this malleable thing that shifts with time and experience and perspective." She looked up, almost embarrassed by her diatribe. "It's an absolute miracle of the human brain."

"You feel that about us?" Jane asked, again afraid she was pushing too hard.

"Yes," Maura said simply.

She sighed, reaching over for Maura's hand. "Then don't you think it's worth giving this a shot?"

Maura's eyes brightened. "Like an experiment?"

Jane pursed her lips, but acquiesced with a nod. "Yes, by all means let's turn this into a Bill Nye-The Bachelor crossover."

"What's your hypothesis?" Maura asked.

Jane exhaled slowly, taking the final plunge off the ledge she had spent the past few years bolstering with untruths. "That I am completely in love with you," she replied, smiling bashfully. "In the most unfriendly of ways. How do you plan on testing that one out?"

Maura leaned over, tentatively, and grazed her lips lightly over Jane's, cupping her jaw with her hand. "Will you come back with me?"

"What, and pass up a chance to sleep with my mother?" Jane asked. "Not a chance."

Maura reached out, playfully grabbing her big toe and pulling. "Come on."

Jane tried to jerk her foot away. "Maura, you know I don't like people touching my feet," she warned.

"I'm not people," Maura answered with a giggle, pulling at it again. At times, she enjoyed knowing just how to get under Jane's skin.

"Maura, I know you're injured, but I will kick you off this bed if you keep touching my feet."

The blonde's chuckle turned into a honey-combed laugh as Jane jerked her foot again, jumping off the bed. "Why are you so immature!" she exclaimed. "All of the other cyborgs know how to behave."

"They're programmed incorrectly," Maura said, reaching for her crutches.

"Nuh-uh," Jane said, slipping on her shoes before walking around the bed and stopping directly in front of Maura, turning her back to her. She lowered herself, hunching forward. "Get on my back."

"Okay, now who's being immature?" Maura asked, but when Jane didn't move, she shook her head with a grin, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Heave!" Jane called, straightening her legs.

"Am I too heavy?" Maura asked.

"Please, woman, I've lifted six-packs heavier than you."

Jane ambled out into the small living room, passing by Angela, who sat on the couch pretending to read a book, but was doing an unsatisfactory job, as it sat upside down in her lap. She glanced up, her mouth dropping in surprise as the two of them passed in front of her, smiles replacing the frowns they had each greeted her with earlier.

"Night, Ma," Jane called over her shoulder, offering no further explanation for their sudden turn of mood.

"Thank you, Angela," Maura echoed cordially with small wave of her crutch, using it to pull the door closed behind them.

Angela shook her head, pulling the bag of sweets closer to her. "One woman is complicated enough, but two?" She shrugged, righting her book and taking a thoughtful bite of her cookie.

* * *

**I hope this lived up to expectations; let me know if it did or didn't. And now I need your input: should we keep this at a K rating or take it up to M? Choose your own adventure :)**

**Thank you all for your response thus far - I like that you like.**


	6. Connection

**Chapter Six**

Jane deposited Maura gently on the couch and began to straighten, but the blonde's hands wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer, settling her between her legs. "Thank you for the ride," she said, placing a quick kiss against the taller woman's neck.

Jane smiled, settling Maura's bandaged limb on top of a pillow. "With your leg like this, that's the only ride you'll be getting tonight, I'm afraid." She darted a quick smile over her shoulder, hoping her dismay wasn't too transparent.

Maura didn't seem to mind, and leaned forward, chuckling lightly in her ear. "Does that disappoint you?"

A pleasurable tickle ran through Jane's spine at the breath against her neck. "Not if you keep doing that," she replied as Maura's lips found a spot just below her ear, and she felt all of her nerves instantly concentrated in that sensitive, singular spot. She had seen Maura wield her sexuality easily enough with men, doling out a sensual touch here and there, but never had she had the privilege of being on the receiving end. Clearly, she had to make up for lost time.

Maura lifted her lips, breaking contact, but keeping her mouth close to Jane's ear. "I've always loved your scent," she uttered wistfully.

Jane shifted, unused to such compliments and equally ill-equipped at responding to them. "I hate to break it to you," she began, glancing over her shoulder, "but it's Dove. A million other girls smell just like me."

Maura shook her head with a smile. "No, they don't. The compounds mix with something that's quintessentially you," she said thoughtfully. "A combination of plum, pink pepper, and the faint aroma of a spicy wood."

Jane crooked an uncertain eyebrow at her. "That's quite a talent you have there, Maur."

She nodded. "I have a slightly enlarged olfactory epithelium. Not as large as sensory animals such as dogs or other quadrupeds, but quite exceptional."

"How very primal of you," Jane observed with a grin as she stood, reluctantly breaking free from Maura's arms. "Want me to warm you a plate of rare French beef to go with that animalistic sense of smell?"

Maura's face cracked into a frown, and she appeared wholly distressed, as she recalled her hasty disposal of the leftovers a few hours earlier. "I threw it away," she said sadly, her lower lip trembling in dismay. "I threw away Coq Au Vin from Maison de la Mere."

"Well, that's okay," Jane said with a placating pat on her arm, unperturbed by the loss of food she had no intention of eating in the first place. "How about I make you a grilled cheese?"

"That's not French," Maura pouted, her frown deepening.

"It is if you call it a fromage du grill," Jane challenged with a swish of her hand as she headed for the kitchen, her own stomach growling. She wished she'd taken Tommy up on the Philly cheese while she had the chance, but, considering her cooking skills, decided she would have to be content with simply the cheese part. "Come on, Maur, don't be such a debutante."

"Will you put a tomato on mine and drizzle it with truffle oil?" Maura requested as she turned, giving Jane a hopeful smile.

"That's sacrilege, but yes, for you I'll do it," Jane replied, reaching into a cabinet for a skillet, which had probably never seen anything as plebeian as the likes of a grilled cheese.

Maura leaned back on the couch, finally appearing as if she were about to relax, but her head popped quickly up with a sudden epiphany. "This is why you never wanted me to date Tommy," she called, smiling at the thought of uncovering some mystery that now made sense to her.

Jane glanced over at her. "Why, because his head would explode if you asked him to put a tomato on your grilled cheese?"

"No, because you liked me," Maura said with a flip of her hair and a smile that bordered on artifice.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Someone's head is swelling up as big as her leg," she observed, but let out a small grin. "I didn't want you to date Tommy because he's a Neanderthal," she continued, punctuating her words with a spatula. "And so was Giovanni. And so was that yoga teacher, he was just a more enlightened one." She paused, scrunching her nose as her words hit home. "Does this mean I'm a Neanderthal and don't know it?"

"Neanderthal women were quite industrious," Maura called, her eyes still peeking over the back of the couch. "Rather than subscribe to division of labor and more modern social mores, they actually joined the males in the hunt for large prey."

"Let's try this again," Jane said, focusing less on the blonde's explanation than the implied meaning behind it. "Does this mean I'm a Neanderthal and don't know it?"

Maura raised her eyebrows, catching her verbal mistake. "No, of course not," she assured her with an exaggerated shake of her head.

"Good," Jane said with a bright smile. "You're learning." Her new phone rang beside her, the sound of a rooster blaring from its small speaker, causing Maura to raise her head in alarm. "Hey, Korsak," Jane answered with a smirk. "What do you got?" She listened quietly, noticing Maura's evaluative gaze on her, but as Korsak continued, she turned toward the stove, hoping the blonde didn't catch the way her eyes suddenly narrowed with concern.

Despite her precaution, Maura indeed noticed the tenseness in her shoulders, surmising that whatever news Korsak was delivering, it was far from what her detective wanted to hear. She continued to watch, hoping to glean some sense of what was transpiring on the other end of the line.

"Well, what the hell was Barney Phife doing letting him pass?" Jane questioned, her voice rising. She nodded, flipping her grilled cheese roughly in the pan. "But you think it was him?" She suddenly jerked her hand away from the pan, cursing as she put her thumb in her mouth. "No, just burnt my thumb," she explained into the phone. "Look, I'm coming in tomorrow to hold down the fort while you two check out the site we found. If it's only thirty miles from that gas station, chances are that's the one. Uh-huh. I'll be in first thing in the morning." She paused impatiently. "Yes, Maura says its okay. Bye."

"What happened?" Maura asked, her own neck tensing as Jane tossed her phone angrily across the counter. "Did they find Moore?"

"No," Jane said with a sarcastic shake of her head. "But if Andy Griffith and Barney Phife, out in bumfuck Massachusetts, had bothered looking at the BOLO reports when they were released, we may have had him."

"Where did they see him?"

"A gas station near Southbridge. Sheriff was there probably buying bad coffee and donuts and didn't realize he crossed paths with him until he got back to his fax machine."

Maura hugged her arms around her. "So we know for sure he's still in Massachusetts," she summarized, her pragmatic tone underscoring the brief flicker of panic flustering her pulse.

Jane shook her head, sliding their sandwiches on two plates, but not before drizzling each with Maura's requested garnish. "No, but that's miles away from here," she said. "He has no interest in us, Maur. He's got a much bigger trail to clean up. And Korsak's got that entire county on full alert. We'll find him."

Maura swallowed, but nodded. "Right," she said, attempting to rid the worried frown from her face as Jane set a plate down on the coffee table in front of her. Suddenly, her appetite had waned for the second time that day.

Jane's, however, seemed to be fine, or at least bolstered by a newfound anxiety, and she took a large bite out of her own grilled cheese, half of it disappearing. "Whoa," she said, staring at her sandwich. "That truffle oil is amazing."

Maura beamed at her, surprised. "You put some on yours?"

"Yeah, why not?" Jane asked. "This Neanderthal loves to try new things."

"You're not a Neanderthal," Maura said, dipping her head with a smile. "If anything, you're more reminiscent of a Paleo-Indian chiefstress."

"Is this a compliment? Because I really can't tell when it comes to the things that tumble out of your mouth sometimes," Jane said, but she felt a slight twinge of pleasure run through her at the way Maura gazed over at her.

"Yes. Strong, prominent cheekbones, dark and penetrating eyes, and a dual desire to command and sustain nature." She glanced at Jane as the brunette took another hefty bite of her dinner. "And they more than likely consumed their food in a similar manner."

Jane nodded, satisfied. "I don't think your species has even evolved yet," she said. "You're an early prototype of some beautiful, otherworldly _Avatar _culture. James Cameron can't even imagine someone like you."

Maura took a thoughtful bite of her sandwich, chewing completely before speaking. "I don't have the pop culture capacity to fully process that reference."

Jane laughed, polishing off the rest of her sandwich in several more bites. "It means I don't know what the hell you're doing with a Paleo like me," she said kindly, pecking a kiss on the corner of her mouth. She stood, slipping her plate into the sink and glancing out into the small, dimly lit walkway that led to the guest house and she was secretly glad that her mother had moved back; it would be easier to keep a watchful eye on her. The idea that Moore was still in Massachusetts wasn't helping the crick in her neck, and she rolled her head, cringing at the sudden pain.

"You should really let me look at that," Maura offered from the couch.

Jane eyed her warily as she walked back to her. "Okay, but I don't need you to do an jui-jitsu moves on my neck," she said. "Just a simple, quick massage."

"I promise," Maura said, moving her plate aside and motioning her to the floor between her legs. Jane followed her direction, taking a seat in front of the couch and hoping the blonde would help relax her nerves rather than excite them. As Maura's hands made her way to her shoulders, kneading them gently at first, she let her head loll forward.

Maura smiled at the sudden abdication of control, a move as uncharacteristic of Jane as enjoying truffle oil on a grilled cheese. As her fingers moved to cup Jane's neck, she felt the tautness of the muscles melt underneath her touch, the brunette letting out a simple, calmed sigh. The detective's words may have given off the impression that Moore was nothing to worry about, but the physical cues her body elicited demonstrated the opposite, and a channel of worry ran across Maura's brow.

"Is this okay?"

"Oh yeah," Jane replied, her voice huskier than usual. "I'm okay; use more pressure." She emphasized her pleasure with another appreciative moan as Maura's fingers worked her shoulders harder, fanning out across the expanse of her back.

"These hands are amazing," Jane said as she reached up and took Maura's in her own, placing her lips along the inside of one wrist. "What can't they do?" She turned, getting to her knees and placing her hands along Maura's thighs. As her position sunk in, she blushed, letting her hands quickly continue their journey upwards, where they rested innocently on the blonde's hips. "I'm going to go shower," she said, mentally noting that she would more than likely be taking a cold one. "You need anything?"

Maura shook her head. "No. Why don't you just take a bath?" she asked. "It will continue to work out the kinks in your trapezius."

"Because I have you to do that," Jane replied with a grin as she got to her feet.

Maura sat idly as she watched her disappear into the recesses of the back hallway, determining whether to turn on the television or not. Rarely did cable keep her interest, but she needed a distraction. She opted against it, and instead picked up a journal she had neglected for the better part of a week, but soon dropped that against her lap as well, frustrated with her lack of attention span. Picking up her crutches, she made her way slowly toward the bedroom, giving Bass a smile as she passed by him. "Stay out of the bedroom," she said to him with commanding wag of her finger.

The steady run of the shower greeted her from the bathroom as Maura slipped into her pajamas, having reached her fashion potential for the day and preferring something more comfortable. Settling into the bed, she reached beside her for two aspirin, popping them quickly and waiting for the dull, but tolerable ache to settle in her leg. As she lay, enjoying the silence, she let her left and right brain work together, piecing together what she already knew about Jane's body with what she had only imagined. Just as the thoughts were beginning to start a physical reaction someplace inside her, the sound of Jane's voice penetrated the silence, overpowering the sound of the water.

"_A girl can do what she wants to do... and I don't give a damn about my bad reputation!"_

Maura perked up an ear, listening with a muffled smile and debating whether or not to alert Jane to her presence; enjoying the audial performance, she opted not to and instead leaned back on her pillow. The water soon stopped, but the mindless humming and a casual grunt of what Maura presumed to be a mock guitar lick still reached her from the bathroom, until Jane opened the door, stopping mid-note as she glimpsed the blonde lying casually on the bed.

"Oh," she said, blushing, but attempting to recover. "If I'd known you were hear I would have chosen a nice, operatic aria for you, darling."

"That doesn't seem like your style," Maura pronounced. "Joan Jett is much more appropriate."

Jane raised an eyebrow at her as she secured her towel more firmly around her body. "Ah, someone _has_ caught up with pop culture. At least through the 1980s."

Maura ignored the dig, instead focusing on the expanse of legs stretching out from beneath the white towel Jane had wrapped around her body. She sat up, and with an outstretched hand, motioned her over to the bed, suddenly needing to put her own imagination to rest. "May I?" she asked faintly, her eyes raising in question as her fingers hovered over the edge of the towel.

"I don't think I'm in a position to say no," Jane replied with a nervous smile as she looked down at her.

Maura edged her legs over the side of the bed, peering up at her as she prepared to unveil a new intimacy between them. She gave a gentle tug and the towel dropped, Jane's chest heaving slightly with her new, sudden vulnerability. Maura reached for her hips, pulling her closer as her hazel eyes gazed appreciatively up at her. "When's the last time you had someone just simply look at you?" she asked softly.

Jane tipped her head downward, hoping to hide the flush at her neck, but she still smiled timidly, unused to such attention. "I don't know," she eluded. "I'd say people are usually in more of a rush when it comes to... these things."

Maura smiled, leaning inward and pressing her lips just above the curve of Jane's hips, the gesture sending a familiar quiver up the brunette's spine. "I'm in no rush," she murmured, trailing her lips across her stomach and placing a matching kiss on the opposite hip. "You're perfect," she said, her words etching themselves along Jane's skin. For the first time, under the blonde's soft gaze, Jane felt as if she was worthy of such attention; Maura made her feel beautiful.

"Really?" she asked, closing her eyes and allowing herself the luxury of enjoying the touch for just a moment longer. "I passed Dr. Maura Isles' physical inspection? No crooked bones or penetrubulating moles?"

"No," Maura said with a smile, but her lips pursed into seriousness as she glanced up at her with a curative eye. "Why, do you have some you'd like me to examine?"

Jane sank into the sheet beside her, shaking her head. "No, but thank you for never letting me take myself too seriously." She leaned into Maura, pulling her closer; the soft, silk material felt good against her bare skin, but she wanted to feel the blonde's warmth against her. Leaning back, she let her fingers find the small black buttons at her chest. "Can I level the playing field?" she asked with a smile.

Maura bit her lower lip, nodding. "It's nothing you haven't seen before," she demurred, but then cocked her head. "Literally, as of yesterday afternoon."

Jane's laugh shook her fingers slightly as she unfastened the buttons, slowly revealing a thin slice of skin down the length of Maura's torso. She pushed the silken material over her shoulders, where it gathered at the small her back, revealing the flesh that had seared its way into her brain less than twenty four hours earlier.

Again, Maura felt her nerves quicken underneath her skin, forming telltale goose bumps as Jane's chestnut eyes roamed over her. The taller woman leaned forward, searing a kiss across her collarbone before reaching up to meet her lips. Their kiss was tentative, as if their bodies were getting used to each other all over again, but eventually Jane cupped the back of Maura's neck and pressed her back against the pillows, deepening it with a soft moan.

Jane allowed just her chest to lower on top of Maura, making sure to steer clear of her leg, but even that small contact sent shivers directly to her core, and she couldn't help but melt just a little further into the body beneath her. When she finally broke the kiss and opened her eyes, eager to take in the rest of Maura, which was still covered, she smiled. "I'm not done yet," she said, eyeing the blonde's pajama pants.

"Finished," Maura blurted, unable to censor herself.

Jane feigned irritation, raising further on her arms. "Okay, I get this is a dry run, but when we actually do go all the way, you can't correct my grammar, agreed?"

Maura gave her a devilish grin. "I wouldn't say this is a _dry_ run, per se."

"Maura..."

"Agreed," Maura nodded. "I can't help it."

"You're lucky you're so beautiful," Jane said, pressing a kiss along her jaw as she inched her way downward. "And quirky," she continued, delivering another just above one ample breast. "And breathtaking," she finished, her lips grazing the taut skin just above Maura's belly button. She pulled the pajama pants over her hips, struck by a certain reversed deja vu. "Last time we did this, I was putting your pants on," she said. "Does this make me a bad caretaker?"

Maura laughed. "I don't think so, but I'd have to consult the manual."

Jane smiled as she tossed the garment somewhere behind her, letting her eyes focus on the smooth expanse of skin. Maura demurely bent her right leg, halfway covering her center, but Jane reached for her foot, straightening it out again as she slid her way back up the blonde's body. She let her lips graze over a few random patches of skin: the side of her knee, the curve of her hip bone, the soft roundness of her shoulder. Her fingers followed, and she caught the light quiver of Maura's muscles underneath her touch. "How do you feel?" she asked, wondering whether her leg was giving her trouble.

"I seem to have a slight uptake in estradiol," Maura replied, and from the way her eyelids lowered and her chest rose, Jane had no trouble interpreting her.

She laughed as she settled closer to her, resting her head on one hand and allowing the other to trace a lacy pattern over Maura's stomach. "I meant your leg."

The blonde eyed it, suddenly remembering the fact that it might be causing her some pain, and as if on cue, she felt a pang shoot through her shin. "It's there," she said with a distracted grimace. Turning to look up at her, she let her eyes drop over Jane's shoulders and down across her breasts, studying her with a quiet, reverential eye. "This part of you is so new to me," she whispered, her fingers circling lightly across Jane's collarbone.

The newness wasn't lost on Jane, either as she took in the curve of Maura's hips, letting her hand delve dangerously low before bringing it back up to her stomach. "Let me guess: the naked part or the gay part?"

Maura smirked, but answered only half the question. "I knew you were gay, Jane."

"You shouldn't judge someone based on their appearance," she teased.

"I didn't make that assumption based on your appearance," Maura corrected. "I based it on the fact that you bristle whenever your mother attempts to set you up with a man and your eye twitches when you try to tell me you're attracted to them."

Jane's eyes widened. "Good god, I feel sorry for your children. They're never going to get away with anything."

"Why did you never feel the need to come out?" Maura asked, her usual curiosity never fading, not even when it came to pillow talk.

Jane sighed. "The usual pressure," she said. "I come from an Italian-Catholic family, Maur. That doesn't exactly make for a cotillion of rainbows. I just wanted to be what people wanted me to be. Tommy had already been disappointing enough, neither Frankie or I went into the family business. I didn't need the guilt of dashing my parents' expectations all over again."

"Your mother loves you, though."

"No, I know," Jane nodded, recalling the talk with her mother in the hospital. "What about you?" she asked. "You seem like an early bloomer."

"I was," Maura replied proudly. "Not that I had the vocabulary for whatever it was I was doing. My mother asked me one Christmas when I came home from college, after she smelled Patchouli on me. If anything, she thought that the internal struggle with my sexuality would help me become an artist. Clearly, it didn't." Maura laughed, looking up at Jane from the comfortable perch on her pillow.

Jane shifted, extending her arm and letting Maura rest her head against her shoulder, enjoying the naturalness of the gesture. "Are you going to tell her about us?" she asked.

Maura turned her head, looking over at Jane with an amused eye. "My mother had already assumed we were together months ago," she said.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "What? Since when?"

"Since you lectured her at her own art opening," Maura replied with a chuckle. "She said I was lucky to find someone so 'fiery' as she kindly put it. That was after she said you had the loyalty and aggression of a Doberman."

"Mhmm," Jane nodded, dropping her cheek onto Maura's head. "Well apparently our mothers are more perceptive than we think. My mother surprised me, too."

"Do you think she approves of us?" Maura asked, looking up at her with a slightly worried eye.

"Are you kidding?" Jane asked. "This just gives her a reason never to leave your guest house."

"I like her here," Maura said softly, covering her mouth as she yawned. "I like you here, too."

"Because I'm a good cook?" Jane laughed.

"Yes," Maura returned. "In another life, you could be a short-order cook, no doubt."

They lay quietly, each of their hands exploring soft, warm skin as they drifted closer to sleep. "I like me here, too," Jane said finally, closing her eyes, and for once she felt content with the vulnerability that comes with letting someone else inside. Eventually, she felt Maura's head dip heavily towards her chest, and she soon followed into a slumber of her own.

* * *

_Maura's head lolled forward, her eyes closing briefly. The moonlight that bathed the interior of the car gave her skin a ghostly glow. Jane wrenched her wrists against her binds, her own grunts permeating the quietness around them. She heard a long, low whistle that seemed to come from the center of her brain and a sudden coolness settled around her, prickling the hairs along the back of her neck. _

"_Hello, Jane."_

_The low, whispered voice, the way he seduced her name off his lips was eerily familiar, but as she turned she caught sight of Moore in the back seat, his hands snaking around Maura's neck. _

"_It never ends, you know," he continued, the words slithering from his mouth. _

_As Jane stared at him, unmoving, his hand morphed, wrinkling as it wove its way through Maura's hair. Jane flinched at the mutation, meeting his eyes as they slowly changed, slitting into small, black ovals, his lips thinning into a sneer that she knew from a past nightmare. "How did you get here?" she asked._

"_I'm always here," he replied, raising something silver in his other hand as he wrenched Maura's head backward against the seat, revealing the whiteness of her throat. "Evil doesn't die, Jane. You should know that."_

Jane jerked forward at the waist, her eyes popping open and meeting the familiar darkness of Maura's bedroom. Her chest heaved uncomfortably as she tried to inhale, steadying her breath, the air cool against the sheen of sweat coating her skin.

Maura stirred beside her, seeming to sense some interruption, and she peaked open a sleep-hazed eye. "What's wrong?" she asked, sitting and pulling the sheet up over her chest as she flicked on the light beside the bed.

"Nothing," Jane uttered breathlessly, staring at her as if the images of her dreams were more believable than the living, breathing woman looking inquiringly up at her with a pair of concerned, tired eyes. "Just a dream."

Maura wasn't fooled by the strained inhalations or the glassy, terrified gaze looking back at her, and wasn't surprised to see Jane climb out of bed and slip on the t-shirt and shorts scattered on top of the dresser, as if the act of covering herself made her less vulnerable. She head toward the hallway, her shoulders hunched over as if she were an animal ready to spring on its prey. Maura had seen this frightened version of Jane only a few times before, but this time she was determined to help her. She slid out of bed, putting one crutch under her arm and retrieving her robe before limping out into the hallway.

Jane poked her head out of the front window, then yanked opened the door entirely, squinting into the moonlight in order to determine whether the unmarked police car was still sitting outside. It was, the interior dark, but it relieved some of the tension flooding its way through her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Maura asked, leaning on one crutch as Jane closed the door, running a bereaved hand through her long, messy curls.

"Yeah," Jane assured her, feeling guilty for causing such a scene. "I'm sorry, I just needed to walk it off a little. Nightmares do that to me." She shrugged, hoping that it would help cover up the shiver that still snaked its way through her shoulders.

"Let me make you some tea," Maura offered.

"No," Jane declined. She was the one supposed to be doing the comforting. Still, the images of her nightmare flashed before her, penetrated only by the soft pair of hazel eyes that looked over at her in the dim light of the kitchen. "How about I make some chocolate milk? It always helps me feel better when I can't sleep."

Maura squinted up at her apologetically. "I don't have chocolate milk."

Jane gave a bashful curl of her lips as she walked toward the refrigerator. "Yeah, you do. I hid some Hershey's syrup in here about a month ago."

"Oh," Maura replied. "Why?"

"Because it's the only thing that makes that tofu ice cream you buy tolerable," Jane said with a wan smile as she poured a glass of milk. "You want some?"

"No," Maura said, sitting down at the bar as she watched a thick line of chocolate spiral its way into the glass. "I think I'm okay. Are you alright, though? You know, nightmares are an appropriate way to - "

"Process trauma, I know," Jane said, cutting her off and clinking the spoon in her glass as she stirred. "I'm fine, it was just a stupid dream." She slumped next to Maura, putting her head in her hand, and avoided making eye contact until she felt a hand rest comfortably on her knee. "It never stops, you know," she offered finally, staring into her glass.

"What doesn't?"

"There's always another Hoyt," she said quietly. "Always another crazy person. I like my job, Maura, I like putting bad guys away and giving families closure. But I don't like worrying about my own family. And I don't – I can't – I can't handle the thought of anything happening to you." She wrung her hands, her words thwarting in her throat. "I just want you to always be okay." She laughed at her lack of eloquence, at times wishing she had a vocabulary that could at least rival an eight grader's.

Maura reached out, covering Jane's hand with her own. "Remember, I'm slumming with you for a reason," she said, harking back to the brunette's own expression. "I have a passion for this work, too, and we're both more than aware of the risks that come with it." Her hand squeezed gently. "You're one of the strongest, bravest people I know, Jane, in that you face your fears every single day and you don't let them get in the way of what's right in front of you. Not many people can say that."

"Yeah, look at me," Jane said, raising her cup. "Cowering in the dark with a glass of chocolate milk."

"You're not cowering, you're slouching," Maura corrected. "You could fix that if you would just sit up straight."

Jane looked over at her, amused, her fears slipping momentarily away. "How do you always make me laugh? You're not even funny," she said, unable to hide the grin that seemed always just on the verge of showing itself when she was with the medical examiner.

"I'm not?" Maura asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly, but her lip twitched with an involuntary mirth.

"No," Jane reiterated, laughing as she put a hand on Maura's knee. "Thank you," she said quietly, her expression recalling the worry that had shaken her earlier. "I needed to hear that from you."

Maura returned her smile, squeezing her hand. "Anytime," she said, glancing at the clock. "Day, night, middle of the night..."

Jane chuckled into her glass, drinking the rest of it down before handing Maura the crutch that rested against the counter. "Come on, Tiny Tim, let's get you back to bed," she said with a slight smirk as she stood. "Where's the other one?"

"I was in a hurry," Maura explained defensively. "I thought something was wrong."

"All the more reason to use two crutches, don't you think?"

"You would be amazed at what one can do once the adrenal-cortical system kicks in," Maura replied.

"Want to see what I can do when my adrenaline kicks in?"

Maura started to offer a response, but Jane took a few quick steps forward, scooping the smaller woman quickly off her feet. "New game," she said. "Let's see how many ways I can sweep you off your feet."

"Do you know where that expression comes from?" Maura asked, wrapping her arms around Jane's neck.

"Nooooo," she groaned, her answer more of an indication that she had no interest in alleviating her ignorance of the subject.

Maura laughed, but continued, undeterred by her less than captive audience. "It's an old Celtic phrase from the seventeenth century - "

"Nooooo," Jane called again, picking up her pace as much as she could, Maura's explanation quickly morphing into a long, low chuckle as she was carried back into her bedroom, where the two of them would finally be successful in gaining some uninterrupted sleep.

* * *

The next morning, after a cup of strong, fortified espresso that left her brain buzzing, and a kiss from Maura that left the rest of her body buzzing, Jane headed into the precinct. Frost glanced up at her as she walked toward her desk wearing a wide smile. He studied her, narrowing his gaze until he finally decided upon a reason for her perky demeanor. "You must have gotten a new gun," he surmised. "Let me see it."

Jane slid it from her holster, proudly displaying it for him. "A rimless, straight forty S&W."

"Nice," he agreed, glancing over at Korsak, who peered up at the two of them over a pair of reading glasses. "When can I get one of those?"

"The day you perform life-saving fasciotomy on my leg," Korsak retorted before looking over at Jane. "Just because you a replacement gun doesn't mean you're officially back on this case."

"Of course not," Jane said with a nod, but as she passed by his desk, she simply rolled her eyes at Frost. "What can I not help with?"

"Well," Frost responded, glancing at his computer. "You can sift through these tax records and see if you can come up with any Sensei Matta subsidiaries that have operations in Massachusetts. We're trying to track a paper trail here that we can use."

"Done," Jane said confidently, taking a seat in Frost's chair. "Pull them up for me."

Frost pressed a button with a jab of his finger, brining up a display record. Jane leaned into the screen, her eyes widening. "What the – one thousand seventeen hundred pages!" she exclaimed.

Frost nodded. "Just be glad you don't work for the IRS."

She shook her head. "There's got to be a better way of doing this."

"Well, see what you can come up with," Korsak said. "Meanwhile, we're going to check out the park that Maura found on the map. I checked it out after you sent it to me last night, and it looks like there could be some possible leads. It's about thirty miles away from the gas station Moore was spotted at. Chances are we'll find some bore wells there, too."

"Great," Jane said, rising from her chair. "Let's go."

"No," Korsak and Frost both stated, shaking their heads.

"We'll go this time," Frost said with a grin, looking over at Korsak. "Besides, Korsak loves my taste in music."

The older detective rolled his eyes. "Pussy music," he said. "I need to introduce you to some old school rock and roll."

He glanced over at Jane, fishing through a file on his desk. "You mind checking with the lab to see if they can give us a copy of that water toxicology screen? I need a copy for the file."

Jane raised an eyebrow at him, unused to such menial jobs. She glanced over at Frankie, who entered the precinct, already sipping from a can of Red Bull, and she waved him over. "Isn't this supposed to be something you're doing?" she asked. "Picking up and filing lab reports?"

Frankie grinned at her. "Well, if you were on this case, it might be different. But technically, you're not."

Jane rolled her eyes. Visiting the lab when Maura wasn't there was just more of a reminder that it was a morgue. Despite her quirkiness, the medical examiner did help lighten things up quite a bit. The techs, however, required much more energy from her. She sighed, glancing back at the three of them in turn, and shoved her way back from Frost's desk. "Fine, I'll go," she said.

As she exited the elevator at the basement level, Jane walked briskly down the hallway, heading for the lab and the small office to the side of it, where she hoped Sue had at least broken down the compounds from the additional water samples Korsak had managed to get from the original site. As she passed by the large window looking into Maura's office, however, she did a double-take, and with a scowl, popped her head into the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked accusingly.

Maura looked up at her from her perch on the couch, where her leg was elevated on the glass coffee table. "This is my office," she replied. "And I needed to get some work done. Do you know how behind I am just in cleaning up Pike's mess? He completely reordered my entire filing system."

"How did you get here?" Jane asked, stepping into the room.

"I took a cab."

"And the plainclothes just let you leave?" she asked, making a mental note to pay a visit to whoever was on morning duty. If they could be sweet-talked by Maura, they could be fooled by anyone.

"I'm not under house arrest, Jane," the doctor said with an amused laugh. "If you can't sit at home all day, why do you think it would be so appealing to me?"

"Because..." Jane offered, trailing off with a wave of her hand. "Because you're a computer, and you need less stimulation than I do."

"Speaking of, I spent all morning downloading new applications for my iPhone," Maura said, holding it up. "Did you know there is an application that records your sleep patterns? And another that can notify you where the closest public restroom is? And another that can track your phone if it's stolen and take a picture of the perpetrators?"

"Okay, first of all, they're called 'apps', Maur," Jane coached, taking a seat next to her and picking up the phone. "If you're going to be a talking iTunes Store, you have to at least get the jargon down." She held up the phone and flinched as it suddenly clicked, taking a photo of her.

"Oh, you just started the tracking process," Maura said, leaning over and pressing a few keys on her laptop. "I haven't quite figured out how to finesse that part of it yet. I've already had to manually shut it off three times this morning. The tracking reports go straight to my computer, but I forwarded the alerts to your device, too, just as a precaution."

"Thank you, Maura, my own personal spammer," Jane said, reaching for her own phone. Sure enough, several ribboned alerts were listed across her screen. "You went to Starbucks this morning?" she asked.

Maura nodded. "I offered the cab driver a Frappaccino."

Jane sighed, leaning over and patting her knee. "Listen, Frost and Korsak are going to check out that ridge that you found and ask around, see if anyone's got anything to hide." She stood, placing her hands on her hips and adopting what she hoped was an authoritative pose. "Meanwhile, the two of us are going back to your place."

"It sounds less fun when you say it so seriously," Maura said, smiling up at her.

Jane grinned, but bent lower to place a small, quick kiss on the crown of her head. "But I am serious," she emphasized. "Meet me upstairs in the cafe in fifteen?"

Maura nodded, watching as Jane walked towards the door. "We can spend the rest of the afternoon playing with your device," she said with an enthusiastic wave of her own phone.

"It sounds less fun when you say it so scientifically," Jane tossed over her shoulder, grinning as she left Maura alone to contemplate the skewed meaning of her words.

After stopping off at her own desk once again, taking a few extra minutes to flip through a few notes that Frost had left on her desk, none of which offered any new insight into Moore's illegal activities, but nonetheless made her feel as if she was at least doing something to track him. She glanced down at the brochure of the yoga reservation, cringing at its language. "'Find the newer, better you'," she read, rolling her eyes as she tossed it back on her desk. "More like 'find the newer, deader you," she muttered, rising and heading towards the elevator.

Maura hadn't yet made it down to the coffee shop, and Jane sighed, walking toward the cash register. The medical examiner could be distracted by a number of things in the archeological dig that was her office.

"Hey Janey," Angela called, handing over a piping hot latte to a uniformed officer. Jane nodded at him as she made her way to the counter, eyeing a tray of muffins, but deciding against plucking one from the bin. "Maura been up here yet?" she asked.

Angela looked up at her, confused. "Why would Maura be here?"

"She came in today."

"Does the word rest mean nothing to you girls!" Angela exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Between the two of you, you're going to drive me crazy."

Jane smirked at her. "What if I told you she drove herself?"

"Oh my god!" Angela continued her diatribe, slapping a hand to her forehead.

"I'm just kidding, she took a cab," Jane admitted, but smirked, dodging Angela's hand as it whipped out toward her shoulder. "Abuse!" she called playfully, and thought twice about the muffing, snagging a blueberry one and taking a bite out of it.

"Let me ask you something," Angela said quietly, rounding the counter and standing next to Jane, eyeing her. "Are you going to move in with Maura?"

Jane did a double-take at her, taking a step away and putting some space between them. "What?" she asked.

"Well, you practically live there now, and it's so much better than your tiny little apartment," Angela qualified.

"Jesus, Ma, you been reading your U-Haul Guide to Lesbian Stereotypes?" Jane asked. "How about we give it some time first, alright?"

Angela shrugged noncommittally, which Jane knew meant she was simply waiting to mention the idea to Maura, who would surely be more politely receptive to her.

"Hey, vanilla!"

Jane rolled her eyes at the voice behind her, not bothering to smile as she turned around to face the familiar, bearded figure ambling up to them. "Rondo," she said flatly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming to get the day old muffins," he said with a grin as he glanced at Angela, who nodded and gave him a wink.

"Ma, are you allowed to be giving him day old muffins?" she asked.

"Why, you want them?" he asked. "I'll sell 'em to you at a discount."

"No, I don't want your day old muffins," she replied, irritation already creeping into her voice.

"Got anything you need my assistance with?" he asked. "I'll also throw in my street expertise for that new low-low price of ten dollars." He smiled at something behind Jane, his face brightening. "Whoa, two scoops!" he called as Maura made her way toward them. He glanced down at her leg, eyeing it curiously, but not asking any questions.

"Hello, Rondo," she said, nodding politely at him.

"Good day, strawberry," he replied, echoing her cordiality.

"Strawberry?" Jane repeated with a questioning frown.

"Yeah, she got that strawberry blonde hair," he said, motioning toward Maura's wavy locks. "Goes well with vanilla." He raised his eyebrows. "And chocolate."

"Okay," Jane said with a wave of her hand, cutting him off. "Unless you know something about fracking in Western Massachusetts, then we're done here."

"Fracking?" he repeated, perplexed. "I don't know nothing about that, but it sounds fun. But I know all about Western Massachusetts. Went to a rehab facility there about a year ago. They were supposed to help me find the newer, better me, but I told 'em Rondo here was already perfect. They didn't think so."

Jane's head snapped up at the familiar phrase. "What rehab facility?"

"Some farm," Rondo replied, mistaking her curiosity for actual interest. "Didn't do any good, though. Those people were off their rockers their damn selves. They tell me I'm crazy, but they were the ones piling into inflated rafts and trying to sail down a rocky river."

"Wait, there was water there?" Jane asked.

"Water, bonfires, smores, all that shit vanilla people like," he said with a wave of his hand. "I never went back."

Jane tossed a glance at Maura, who seemed to already pick up on her thoughts. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

Rondo leaned into the two of them. "Banana split?"

Jane pushed him aside, but reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Here, get your own banana split," she said, gesturing toward Maura and already picking up her cell phone to redirect Korsak and Frost. "We have some work to do."

* * *

**Reviews really are golden. I hope you like.**


	7. Disquiet

**Chapter Seven**

As Jane retraced her steps back toward the elevator, following slowly behind Maura, she pressed her phone against her ear. "Frost and Korsak shouldn't have gotten too far," she said. "We can redirect them, depending on where this rehab facility is. We just need to find out where it is."

Maura nodded, raising one crutch and pressing the elevator button with its tip. She smiled at her own ingenuity, pleased with her ability to employ them in a somewhat useful manner.

Jane darted an amused glance at her. "Putting those to good use, huh?"

"They serve a multitude of purposes," Maura affirmed with a content nod.

"Hey, Frost," Jane said, cinching her brow as she spoke quickly into the phone, her words hurried with the adrenaline that had come with their newest lead. "I may have another location for you to scout out. Just give me ten minutes." She paused, the furrow between her eyes deepening. "What is that god-awful racket?"

Maura glanced over at her, curious, and cocked an eyebrow as Jane rolled her eyes.

"Tell Korsak that doesn't count as rock 'n roll," she said, hanging up without a goodbye. As the elevator dinged its arrival, she followed Maura inside and raised a finger to punch the third floor button, but the blonde beat her to it, once again utilizing her newly discovered method. She gave Jane a satisfied smile.

"It really is about the little things for you, isn't it?" Jane asked as the doors closed.

Maura twitched an eye at her, secretly comforted by the teasing, but she chose to change the subject to something that had nagged her since she'd arrived at the lab that morning. "I looked at the results from the water Korsak managed to obtain from the river, and the levels aren't as high as I would suspect if Moore were dumping all of his runoff into it. Fracking produces hundreds tons of fluids at a time, most of comprised of chemical compounds."

"So, he's dumping it on other sights," Jane replied confidently. "Clearly he has more than a few. Plenty of fresh water to go around. Just like at the reservoir."

Maura didn't seem convinced. "Even so, if he's utilizing disposal wells they could cause a plethora or problems: methane leaking, explosions, groundwater contamination. Finding the boring wells is only one piece of the puzzle. It's imperative to find where the fracking fluids are being disposed of, if only to prevent a major disaster."

"Major enough to negotiate a plea?" Jane frowned. "I can already smell the cushy sentence Moore will get if he can use this as a bargaining chip once Korsak and Frost catch up with him."

As they stepped into the small hallway leading to Jane's desk, a fellow detective passed by them, his suit rumpled and a faint five o'clock shadow coloring his jaw. "Nice battle wound you got there, Doc," he said with a colluding grin and a clap on Maura's shoulder that nearly toppled her over.

Maura didn't seem to mind, smiling widely as he stepped into the vacated elevator. Rarely, in her capacity, hidden as she was down in the morgue, had she been privy to such camaraderie from detectives. "Wow," she bubbled, following Jane through the small doorway to a cluster of desks. "I've never been on the receiving end of an auxiliary kudo; it's quite exhilarating."

Jane flung a grin over her shoulder. "And all it took was nearly losing a leg," she said, chuckling at Maura's seemingly insatiable enthusiasm for even the most trivial of gestures.

Jane stopped short, tilting her head at the sight of Frankie sitting at her desk, bent over what she presumed was the Moore case file. As she made her way toward him she couldn't help but feel a pang of compassion for her younger brother. She had worked just as hard as he had to be promoted to detective, although for her that meant donning a mini skirt and a feigned coke habit. In comparison, her brother had it much easier, but that didn't mean he wasn't pushing himself to make his first big break, and she held a little pride for him. "Come across something we haven't?" she asked, walking up behind him.

He shook his head, running a hand over his gelled hair, his thin lips pursed into a tight bow. "Nothing," he said, dejectedly.

As Maura sidled up to them, Jane kicked the chair he sat in, jerking her thumb upwards. "Get up," she deadpanned. He scowled up at her, annoyed, but his expression softened as he saw her motion for Maura to take the seat.

"I'm just relieved they don't call me 'Queen of the Dead' anymore," Maura sighed happily as she sat, still clearly on a high from casual praise.

"Oh no, they still call you that," Jane replied nonchalantly, leaning over her to reach her computer keyboard.

Maura gave her a disappointed frown, glancing up at Frankie for confirmation, and he nodded apologetically. "We always call 'em out, though," he assured her, although it didn't do much to erase the furrowed lines that knitted her forehead.

"Let's see," Jane said, jabbing her fingers across the keys. "Rehab facilities, Western Massachusetts, 'a newer and better you'."

She scrolled through her search results before floating over one that stood out among the rest. "Ah ha," she said, pointing to the blue link. Maura followed her gaze and Frankie hovered over the two of them as Jane recited the text on the page, which floated over a serene image of a babbling brook. "'New Horizons rehab facility, owned and operated by Whole Life Works'." She pointed towards Frost's computer. "Frankie, check those documents that are pulled up and let's see if this is a subsidiary of Moore's catchall company."

Frankie slumped into Frost's chair and searched through the electronic records Jane had only begun to sift through earlier. "Bingo," he said with a nod. "Launched in 2009, owned by the same parent company as Sensei Mata Yoga Retreat." He squinted, running his cursor over the screen. "Looks like Moore's business ventures really run the gamut," he said. "There's everything from rehab to yoga to wastewater treatment."

Maura's head bolted up at him, her eyes burning towards the computer, and she leaned forward with a sudden interest. "Wastewater treatment?" she asked urgently. "Where is it?"

"Maura's got a thing for wastewater," Jane cut in, grinning, and simply shrugged as she was met with a pointed look.

Frankie ignored his sister, shaking his head. "Don't know; this looks like it's just headquarters or something. Unless this rehab facility actually is in the middle of Las Vegas." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Which could be kinda convenient, I guess. Plenty of use for rehab there."

Maura shook her head, a thoughtful finger pressing against her lower lip. "No, it's a dummy address, used for tax purposes only. Nevada has one of the lowest corporate tax rates in the country." She cocked her head. "Although globally, the United States has the highest corporate tax rate of any developed nation, so relatively speaking - "

"Hey Maur?" Jane interrupted quickly, putting a hand on her knee to halt whatever tirade was about to spill unwittingly from her brain. "How about we stay on topic?"

Maura nodded, used to such interruptions, and leaned over to look at the screen on Jane's computer. "Is there no address on the website you found?"

Jane floated her cursor along the page. "This hasn't been updated in over nine months. All it says is that it's comfortably settled along the Ashley River."

Maura brightened, raising an enthusiastic finger. "Oh! I know that river. It's a tributary off Ashley Lake, near Pittsfield. There's a heightened concentration of Edwardian Newts along the shallower eddies. I used to research them there with my college Freshwater Newtonian club." She paused, waving a less than humble hand. "I came up with the name."

Jane shared a glance with Frankie, treading carefully and trying to prevent an internal smirk from curling her lips. "The Freshwater Newtonians?" she repeated slowly. "I bet you had to turn people away for admission into that club, huh?"

"I recognize that you are making fun of me, because you're jealous of my ability to wittily employ anthimeric devices to create club names, but yes, we did indeed have to turn people down for our weekend trips to the river."

"Why?"

Maura pursed her lips, her jaw clenching with the desire to tell a lie, but she could only offer the truth. "Only five people could fit safely into my Volkswagen."

Jane chuckled, perching on her desk and glancing down at her. "You are tirelessly amusing," she said, briefly lost in the hazel eyes that smiled up at her.

Maura held her gaze, enjoying the line of intimacy that seemed to connect the two of them, no matter where they were: morgue, precinct, crime scene. Buoyed by a fleeting weightlessness, she continued, her brain tirelessly computing their available options. "Well, the shale ridge is in Western Massachusetts, and so was the yoga retreat, so it seems logical that the rehab facility is close by as well. It's also in the vicinity where Moore was allegedly spotted by this culturally-referenced Barney Phife."

Jane nodded, bringing up a map of the river on her computer, which snaked a thin line of blue across the left half of Massachusetts. "Right," she said. "Judging by this, we've got time to catch up with Korsak and Frost. They haven't been gone more than half an hour." She glanced up at her brother, for once eager to give him an opportunity. "Come on Frankie, you can ride with me." She straightened, her shoulders broadening with the anticipation of tracking a perp.

It was a posture that Maura had seen before, and she gave an imperceptible shake of her head before reaching out abruptly with one crutch and blocking Jane's path to the hallway. "There will be no field trips," she blurted, her voice thin with apprehension, which she attempted to reign in with mere logic. "Frost and Korsak are already on their way. You can simply reroute them." They had been through more than enough when dealing with Moore for the first time. The thought that Jane would rush off to face him again was more than worrisome; it was unnerving.

"Where's the fun in that?" Jane argued, glancing at Frankie. "We broke this lead, we should be there, too." A protectiveness had suddenly cloaked her shoulders, weighing them down. She wanted Moore to pay for what he had done, but more than that she wanted the satisfaction that came with arresting him with her own two hands. "And who knows, they might need back up. We certainly could have used it."

"No," Maura corrected, raising a slightly quivering finger, her alarm morphing quickly into exasperation. "Rondo broke this lead, and I'm more than fine if you want to send him to follow Korsak and Frost." This time, she tried appealing to more than simple rationality. "You're coming home with me, remember?"

Jane peered down at Maura, cognizant of her brother's amused expression as he watched their exchange, but she shrugged it off. "What happened to all that stuff about facing your fears and me being one of the bravest people you know?" she reminded her.

Maura's words from the night before looped irritatingly through her head, but now it was her own fear motivating her sudden plea for her detective to stay. "Brave isn't the same thing as foolhardy, Jane."

"Foolhardy?" Jane repeated, grinning down at her, an amused twinkle in her eye. "Maybe you ought to go hang out at Andy Griffith and Barney Phife's precinct for a little while, Aunt Bee. Mayberry could use a few more 'foolhardy' folks."

Frankie snickered at the playful remark, but Jane's own excitement faded as she caught something more than just reason in Maura's eyes. It wasn't the usual chagrinned self-awareness, or even defiance. It was just simple, exposed worry, a feeling that had nearly debilitated Jane when they were caught in the woods, and she never wanted to be responsible for igniting that feeling in Maura. "You know what, maybe you have a point," she acquiesced, slowly reversing course. "There's no reason to traipse across half of Massachusetts if we've already got two well-equipped detectives on Moore's trail." She looked over at Frankie, hoping for confirmation. "Right?"

He shrugged. "Saves Boston taxpayers some gas money," he said, noncommittally, his own disappointment not overshadowing his reasoning. "And besides, you'd be putting the investigation at risk if you went yourself."

"And," Maura piped up, raising a finger and gesturing between herself and Jane. "This... experiment."

Frankie leaned casually back in his chair. "What experiment?" he asked, placing his hands behind his head.

"Yes, Maura, what experiment?" Jane echoed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a playful eyebrow. For her part, she could shout about their newfound intimacy from the BPD roof, but she was eager to see how Maura would respond to her brother's familial curiosity.

She looked helplessly up at Jane before looking over at Frankie, seemingly at a loss for words that could be deemed truthful enough to ward off an allergic reaction. "The experiment that Jane and I are participating in – together – is to determine the cost-benefits of extrapolating some sort of hybrid relationship out of an existing, cohesive - "

"Oh for crying out loud," Jane said, bending over and placing a kiss squarely on Maura's lips, effectively silencing her loquacious explanation. She caught Frankie's raised eyebrows out of the corner of her eye as she broke the kiss and straightened, returning to her casual stance against her desk.

Frankie recovered quickly, grinning and clapping his hands in mock praise. "About time," he said. "Frost and I wondered how long it would take for the two of you to wake up and smell the - " he cleared his throat as Jane glared down at him, already anticipating his verbal misstep. "Uh, congrats," he finished, busying himself with the action figure on Frost's desk.

Jane glanced down at the crutch that was still passively blocking her way. "Maura, was my demonstration of romantic intent not a good enough gesture for you? I'm not going to run off to the boondocks and track down a homicidal fracker, I promise."

"I was simply being logical," Maura countered, unsettled by the quick onslaught of terror she felt at the thought of Jane recklessly chasing after Moore. After their night together, she was sure of the fact that she needed Jane in more ways than she had imagined; the thought of losing her had fanned a flame of fright that was only beginning to cool.

Jane smiled, leaning down to her. "I think you were being a little emotional," she whispered, as if sensing the internal struggle currently working its way through the shorter woman's circuitry. She stood, adopting an automated, sarcastically robotic tone: "Welcome to the human universe," she said, stiffly moving her arms as she brushed the crutch from her path.

Maura rolled her eyes, giving Jane a half sneer as she plucked her phone from her belt once again, stepping toward the door as she began to explain their findings to Frost. Maura turned her attention back to Frankie, giving him a weak smile. "I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable," she said, gesturing to Jane.

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Are you kidding me? It was watching Tommy flirt with you that made me uncomfortable." He chuckled. "If Jane ever rides you too hard - " he stopped, his face reddening as he coughed into his hand. "I mean – what I meant was – " Maura suppressed a chuckle as he cleared his throat, finally opting to start over. "If Jane ever teases you too much or gets too annoying, just say these words: Sister Winifred Callaghan. It will stop her cold."

Maura smiled. "I'll remember that," she said. "Was that her dance instructor?"

He shook his head. "Nah, first grade teacher. The evilest woman that ever lived. It was like she took lessons from the devil himself."

They turned their attention to Jane, who sauntered back to them. "Frost and Korsak are going to head over to the river as soon as they stop into the Mayberry precinct. Make sure no one over there's being too foolhardy."

Frankie tossed Maura a knowing nod, mouthing the nun's name as a reminder and pulling a small smirk from her. "What's the point of all this fracking?" he asked, changing the subject and throwing his hands up. "If you ask me, it's too much risk."

Maura shrugged. "Natural gas is an expensive, burgeoning resource, with newfound economic potential. There's plenty of room for unregulated markets to flourish."

Jane's phone let out a distracting, apish grunt from its speaker, prompting her to glance down at it with a knowing grin. "Speaking of natural gas in unrelated markets," she said. "It's Pop." She skimmed the text that popped across her screen. "He wants some help moving some of Ma's old furniture to Good Will this weekend." Jane glanced conspiratorially at Frankie. "I say we volunteer Tommy."

"Done," Frankie replied.

Jane extended a hand to Maura, helping her up. "How about we go home and relax with lunch and a movie?"

"How about Scrabble?" Maura suggested, her eyes perking. "It helps prevent brain depletion as you age."

"Yeah, that's fair," Jane complained, calling after her as the blonde made her way slowly to the elevator. "Me playing Scrabble against a talking dictionary." She glanced back at her brother, who had already turned his attention back to the notes on her desk. "Frankie, is this your day off?" she asked suddenly, wondering why he didn't seem to have anything better to do than sit around at her station.

He seemed slightly embarrassed, but nodded. "I just thought I'd take in a few things. You never can have too much experience, right?"

She smiled down at him, a matronly f. "Listen, if Korsak or Frost need anything, I'm counting on you to step in, alright? If you don't mind doing so on your day off?"

He grinned up at her, his smile brightening, but his expression suddenly turned wary. "You're not on the case; do you have the power to do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "You see anyone else around here trying to give you a break?"

"Right," he nodded quickly, as if she were about to take back her offer. "Thanks, Jane."

"You're a good cop, Frankie," she said. "We all know that."

"I want to be a good detective," he emphasized, his eyes losing some of their luster.

"You're a Rizzoli, you're bound to be good at it. Sticking our noses where they don't belong is a family trait." She clapped him on his shoulder. "You'll get there, don't sweat it."

He shrugged off her hand in mock annoyance. "Go enjoy your "scrabble" game," he said with a snicker.

Jane tossed her head back at the Maura, who was leaning against her crutches at the elevators, her head angled toward a bulletin along the wall that had more than likely been read by no one but her. "It's Maura; that wasn't a code word. She literally wants to play Scrabble. All night long."

Frankie laughed. "Better you than Tommy."

Jane reached out, bumping his fist. "Thank you, my brother," she said with a laugh before walking to the elevator.

"We missed it," Maura said, pointing toward the unlit down button, which she immediately jabbed with the end of one crutch, the same pleased smile on her face.

"Will you stop it with the crutch?" Jane asked. "You do have two good arms, remember?"

Maura stared over at her, nonplussed, as the elevator doors opened and she ambled inside. The two glanced at one another, each eyeing the button for the Lobby level. Maura made no move towards it, but instead waited until Jane reached forward, preempting her jab at the last second with the tip of her crutch. Jane feigned a scowl, but her lips curled into an unintentional smile.

"You know," Maura said, as the floor lurched downward. "If you don't want to play Scrabble, I'll just play my new Words with Friends application."

Jane glanced over at her, rolling on the balls of her feet. "Do you have any cyborg friends to play with?" she asked.

Maura frowned at the question. This was the second time in less than an hour Jane had pinned her into offering a less than gloating answer. "No, I do not."

Jane smiled widely, pointing both of her thumbs sarcastically inward toward herself. "Then I guess you'll just have to make do with a real, live girl," she gushed.

As they passed by the cafe, Angela waved them over, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she looked sternly at each of them in turn. "You two promise me to go home and stay home," she demanded.

"Yes, Ma, we're on our way," Jane replied. "We're just going to pick up some lunch." She shared a look with Maura. "Maybe you need to forward your phone tracking reports to this one," she said, jerking her thumb at her mother. "That way she can nag without having to actually nag."

"I can make you something to go," Angela offered. "The special today is corned beef hash or the tuna melt."

Maura cringed, looking pleadingly up at Jane. "Please not another sandwich," she said quietly, her politeness keeping her from giving an outright decline.

"Goodbye, Ma," Jane said, giving her an emphatic wave. "Come on Words with No Friends, let's go," she said, ushering Maura toward the double doors.

"How about Whole Foods?" Maura asked. "There's a variety. We'll grab something to go."

Jane turned up her nose, but sighed as she followed Maura down the exit ramp and toward her car, which was parked just a few yards away. "Fine, you're the injured one. I can run in and get something."

"No," Maura protested, shaking her head as she peered up at her. "I don't trust you inside a Whole Foods."

"Maura, you're on crutches."

"Exactly, which means this will be my only form of exercise for the next couple of weeks. Humor me."

"I always humor you," Jane said, rounding the side of the car and slumping inside. "Do they have cheesesteaks?" she asked as they pulled away from the curb, prompting Maura to chuckle before rolling her eyes.

No matter how many times she entered a Whole Foods, Jane inevitably ended up lost, and this occasion was no different. Maura immediately limped over to the prepared foods section, leaving Jane standing amidst the small farm that was the produce station. She meandered through the aisles, thoughtfully taking a sample here and there before eventually making her way down the beer aisle. It was then that she regretted not taking one of the tiny grocery carts that she had made fun of on her way in.

She turned a corner, and found herself facing a wall of feminine vitamins, most of which contained the word "yeast", and turned quickly, finally spotting Maura at the food counter. A chiseled, sandy-haired man in a suit bent towards the display case with her, pointing at a rainbow-colored salad of some sort. His tie was slightly loose, giving off an intentionally casual look, and Jane immediately distrusted him. He had probably spent more time in front of his mirror perfecting his disheveled look than Jane spent preparing for a date. She sauntered up to the two of them, giving him a pointed stare. "Finding everything okay?" she asked.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, and Jane put her hands on her hips, not so casually revealing her badge. "Uh, we sure are," he said quickly as he straightened, glancing back at Maura. "I was just recommending the wheat germ encrusted salmon."

"How lovely," Jane replied with an exaggerated smile. "Sorry, but this one's on a wheat sperm - excuse me - wheat germ-free diet."

Maura looked up at her, mortified, and quickly covered, giving the man an apologetic smile. "That's right, I am allergic to wheat _germ_. But it looks delicious," she offered.

"Uh huh," he said, glancing down at his basket and studying the items inside, intentionally avoiding the dark eyes that were still locked on him. "Well, uh, you two ladies enjoy your afternoon." He cleared his throat, the sound resembling more of a choked cough, as he brushed past the two of them, ducking down the next aisle as quickly as his loafers would take him.

"Why did you scare away that nice man?" Maura questioned.

"Because he was taking advantage of a walkingly challenged woman."

Maura laughed up at her. "That is not a word that can be utilized as an adverb. And I am not some damsel that needs you to rescue her, Jane."

The comment was meant in jest, but Jane's eyes darkened slightly at the memory of Maura's calm demeanor when she had clearly and explicitly described the process of saving her own leg. "I know," she replied quietly, but shook the anxiety from her chest. Maura was more than apt at taking care of herself, whether it be through decapitating a leg or politely declining male advances. That didn't mean she couldn't do her part, though.

Jane eyed the container she held, which, to her, looked as if someone had stuffed leaves inside it and stuck a price tag on top of it. "Who's that for, Bass?"

"No, it's for us; it's a kale salad."

Jane shook her head, sneering down at it. "That is not happy-people food."

"No, it's healthy people food."

"Fine," Jane said, holding up her own selection. "I got this to go with it." She brandished a pizza that she'd plucked from the frozen food aisle. "Look, there's even spinach on it."

"That's basil."

"Well, it's green, isn't it?"

Maura laughed. "One day, you won't have the metabolism of a twenty-year-old, remember that."

"Then I'm lucky I found you while I still do," Jane retorted gleefully, leaning over and kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Maura smiled at the feel of her lips, that same feeling of weightlessness lifting her higher onto her good foot as she angled her cheek upwards. "How are you so charming half the time and so off-putting the rest?" she asked quizzically.

"The appropriate term is 'fiery'," Jane quipped back at her, recalling Constance's description. She leaned over, thumbing through the spread of prepared food. "Sure you're not in the mood for some wheat sperm fish?" she asked.

Maura rolled her eyes. "You are not coming home with me if you say that again."

Not one to test her limits too far, Jane kept her comments to herself until they reached the car, where she piled the bags and crutches neatly in the back seat. Their ride was quiet, the rumble of the engine and passing row houses enough to keep them both happily occupied. Maura's hand found its way over the middle console, resting casually on Jane's thigh, holding a promise of more closeness once they arrived home.

"You know, when you're all patched up, I think we should get out of the city," Jane suggested, casually glancing out the rearview mirror, as if she hasn't been stewing over the idea for most of their drive. "We should take advantage of warmer weather and hit up a beach." After finally glimpsing Maura's body, she saw no reason to be holed up in a cabin; showing her off in a swimsuit seemed much more preferable.

"Oh, Chateau du Monde!" Maura breathed, clearly appreciating the idea. "My mother would love to host us for a weekend. The water is absolutely beautiful; the pH content is by far the best in Europe."

"Wow," Jane said, surprised by Maura's enthusiasm, but also secretly relieved by it. "I am going to enjoy the perks that come with dating you." She tossed a smile over at her. "You don't think Constance would mind an unrefined Italian crashing her French chateau for a weekend?"

"Despite what you think, my mother is quite taken by you," Maura returned. "She's fascinated by androgyny."

Jane frowned, unsure of whether that would actually constitute a compliment to anyone outside of the Isles family, but she shrugged, brushing it off and instead focusing on the idea of a weekend alone with Maura. "Well, then, I say we do it. I've never been to France."

"I would love to see it with you," Maura sighed happily.

"Yes, the veil of sarcasm does truly make a difference," Jane said with a laugh. "I'm happy to oblige."

"We could always invite your mother, too," Maura said thoughtfully. "Has she ever seen France?"

Jane stared over at her with an open mouth. "Are you being serious?" she asked. "Over my dead body. The closest my mother will get to a French chateau is Le Maura Guest House. This vacation would be strictly for us."

Maura chuckled. "Fine. But let it be noted that I am a nice, polite experimental girlfriend."

Jane nodded, placating her. "Yes, you are the nicest robot I've ever dated. All the other humans are very jealous."

As Maura's house loomed before them, and Jane pulled into the narrow drive, a sigh came from the passenger's seat. "Jane, I really am going to have to go back to work soon. I can't take being at home all day."

Jane leaned over the center console, cupping Maura's chin and guiding her closer and pressing her lips against hers, an action she was finding harder and harder to resist. "Well, it's my job to keep you here for the next few days," she said. "Any suggestions on how I can make it more tolerable for you?"

Maura returned the kiss, deepening it slightly by letting her tongue slip quickly inside Jane's mouth. "I think my right brain is advanced enough to come up with a few."

Jane idled in the narrow drive, pointing towards Maura's back entryway, which was hidden behind an ivy-covered wall. "Why don't you go ahead and slip into those silk pajamas so I can slip you out of them?"

Maura smiled, but her expression turned serious, and she shook her head. "I can't put on pajamas this early," she scoffed, gesturing toward the dress she wore. "Not when I'm wearing a Carolina Herrera."

Jane sighed, resigned to saving her sweet talk for another time. "I'll park and bring the food in," she offered, preferring to leave a space in the drive for her mother. If she didn't, she would most certainly hear about it. "But not before I give those damn cops and earful for letting you leave so easily this morning."

"Be gentle," Maura encouraged as she lifted herself out of the car. "Remember, I can be charming, too, when I want to be."

"The appropriate term is 'bossy'," Jane called out of the window as she watched Maura walk towards the back door. She backed her own car slowly into the street, where she found parking surprisingly easy, thanks to the midday hour. Jane slunk out of the car, grabbing the food from the backseat and shielding her eyes against the sun as she started toward the unmarked car that sat along the curb. She waved, but the officers didn't bother returning the gesture, as she got closer, she let out an irritated sigh. Both of the their heads were reclined on their seats, their eyes closed. "Great, Boston's finest," she muttered, rapping harshly on the window.

The passenger door was slightly ajar, and Jane bristled as she jerked it open. The cop fell immediately towards her, nothing but dead weight, and as she caught him, dropping the bag of food, she noticed the tranquilizer dart sticking out of his neck.

"Jesus," she said, pushing him quickly upright, searching for a pulse, which was faint under her fingertips. "Shit."

Fumbling with the car radio, she was suddenly all thumbs as she struggled to jerk it towards her. "Officer down at 3340 Beacon Place, send backup immediately." Her voice shook, and the radio slipped out of her hands as she fumbled for her own phone at her belt buckle. Her world has suddenly tipped beneath her feet, and she struggled to orient herself as her fingers quickly dialed Frankie. "Shit," she muttered as his voicemail popped up, her pulse suddenly catching up with her instinct. "Maura," she said softly, forcing her legs to move. As if on cue, a strangled cry pierced the eery tranquility around her.

"Jane!"

It wasn't a cop's instinct that kicked in; if it had been, she would have moved stealthily toward the house, not giving away her position. But her panic had already exploded in her chest, and the only thing she could do was yell the one name that fluttered through her: "Maura!" She ran at full speed, the quietness of the street mocking her as her boots beat against the pavement, echoing the pounding of her heart.

* * *

**In my fanfic world, cliffhangers don't last more than eighteen hours. I promise. Yell, scream, etc. Just do it in review-form. Thank you so much for reading - I love hearing from you!**

**Ren, Cat, thanks for the read-through :)**


	8. Trouble

**Chapter Eight**

Maura laughed softly as she pointed her crutches toward the back terrace, only eager to be home now that Jane was joining her. With Angela around, the house felt much homier than it had when she first moved in, but that was nothing compared to the warmth that suffused it when Jane was there with her. Maura watched as the detective navigated her narrow driveway, pulling out of sight along the curb. If their night went as planned, she hoped to bypass her silk pajamas completely, and simply skip to the feel of Jane's skin directly next to hers. As the thought wove its way pleasurably through her synapses, she made her way to the back door. The wind ruffled the leaves along the terrace wall, but it was only after a series of goose bumps percolated her skin that Maura realized the trees around her were unmoving. The rustling suddenly stopped, replaced by the swift beat of heavy footsteps, coming too heavy and too fast to be Jane's.

Maura had little time to panic as she turned, her flight response triggered, and was met with the hard, flat wall of a human chest. She managed a startled cry before a hand clamped over her mouth, her crutches catching in her hands as she tried to wield them as some sort of weapon. With a quick thrust, she railed one backward, eliciting a grunt of pain from her assailant. She tried again, and this time the hand around her shoulders fell away, freeing her. She used the moment to her advantage, scrambling quickly away, her leg on fire without the assistance of her crutches. "Jane!" she screamed, hoping that whoever was behind her hadn't gotten to her detective first.

Chancing a glance behind her at the figure that hunched over, clutching his side, she made it only several painful steps before she was met with another human hurdle. The muddy colored eyes staring down at her were narrowed, the thin line of the man's mouth curled into a sneer, and she was pushed backwards, falling into the hands from which she had just managed to escape. The first man, seemingly learning from his previous mistake, pressed a gun against her temple, while the second man pushed towards her. She could see the stubble that lined his chin, but her eyes moved quickly to the gun he held by his side, monitoring the twitch of his index finger.

_"Maura!"_

She registered the panicked yell of her name, but could only shake her head forcefully, as if willing Jane away from the burst of violence that had struck what promised to be a normal, even boring, afternoon. As Jane's footsteps hammered along the driveway, the second man swung his gun toward the street, as if waiting to greet her. He tossed a sinister grin back at Maura. "You try anything, I put a bullet in her, you got it?"

Maura nodded silently, her breath unable to make its way up her windpipe, and she closed her eyes, hoping that Jane wouldn't appear around the corner. If she didn't appear, then she would stay out of harm's way. Maura didn't believe in the physics of telepathy, but she tried to deliver some message of warning. In the end, she opted for the tried and true of verbal communication. "Jane, no! Run!"

Her words were too late, however, and Jane rounded the corner with her gun already drawn, aiming squarely at the three of them. Maura's eyes tried to find hers, but she couldn't focus, her vision blurring and her stomach heaving; now neither of them were safe.

Jane stopped cold, mid-stride, but kept her weapon raised. The man pointing his gun toward her was about an inch shorter than she was, but much bulkier, and his aim was directly over her heart. Her eyes flitted from the man to his partner, who towered over Maura, one hand wrapped around her torso. It was the other one, though, the one that held a Sig to her temple, that made Jane's breath stop. She caught Maura's terrified eyes, hoping to transmit some sort of reassurance, but she was sure she failed, instead only offering the fear that pulsed through her.

"I think you should drop that," the shorter man said, but Jane held her weapon steady, silently testing him. He wasn't exceptionally well-built, but his closely cropped hair and thick arms were enough to give her pause, and he looked too comfortable holding a gun for her to try anything rash. He may have been Moore's second-string, but he was clearly confident enough to get the job done.

"Cops are already on their way," she answered, her voice a pitch lower than usual, just to keep it from wavering. She needed to keep him talking, despite the fact that her throat was rapidly closing in on her words, an overpowering vice on her vocal cords. "You got less than five minutes before an entire BPD squad aims a row of Glocks at you."

"Then I guess we better get out of here fast," he said with a sneer, nodding back at his partner, who moved the muzzle of his gun underneath Maura's chin, coaxing it upwards. "I was going to start with introductions," he said, his voice a thin veneer of propriety, as if in a former life he was an accountant rather than a criminal. "But if time is running out, maybe we just go for the gold, how about that?" He paused, letting his words penetrate the panic that froze Jane's arms in place. "Drop the gun, Detective."

Jane's hand quivered, and she hoped he couldn't see the gun shaking. Her logic was failing her, and the only thing that mattered was the woman in front of her. She glanced quickly at Maura, swallowing, and shifted her feet beneath her. That brief contact was enough to let both of their captors know that whatever happened, Maura was her top priority; and that gave them both a power she didn't want them to have.

The man in front of her smiled, gesturing toward his taller, broader partner, whose thin wisp of dark brown bangs made him look more like a graduate student than a lackey. Whatever the gesture meant, Jane wasn't about to find out. "Wait," she said, her voice thin. Lowering her gun slowly to the ground, she glanced back at the taller man, unable to meet Maura's eyes as she did so.

The younger guy slipped a pair of plastic handcuffs out of his pocket and made quick work of tying Maura's hands together. Jane lurched forward, but was halted by the gun in her face, and she seethed silently as the same treatment was given to her own hands, which were bound securely in front of her. The shorter man dangled Maura's keys in his fingers, unlocking the Prius that sat a few feet away from them. "Get in," he directed, swaying his gun at Jane. "We've already changed the license plates. Don't want our excursion being interrupted, do we?"

"We're not getting into that car," Jane responded defiantly. She had no intention of making their work any easier, and the longer they had their feet on solid ground, the more time she had to think of a way out. She glanced quickly at Maura, whose gaze was directed toward the ground in front of her, half closed, as if physically willing their nightmare to dissipate.

"Jesus, you're a stubborn one," he observed, and tossed a glance back at Maura. "She always this pigheaded?" he asked, grinning as his partner gave a quick yank on Maura's hair. Jane clenched her teeth, biting hard down on the inside of her cheek, tasting blood, but that did nothing to calm what was boiling inside her. Her hands curled into fists, and her chest swelled with a useless protectiveness.

Despite the harsh grip at the back of her head, Maura managed a small nod. "Yes," she replied earnestly, her eyes searching for Jane's, as if trying to establish a direct bond that wouldn't be uprooted by a gun at her head or a maniac behind her. And for a brief moment, Jane felt the connection, and gave her a small flicker of a comforting nod.

The first man rolled his eyes, unamused by Maura's response, and he turned back to Jane, fixing her with an impatient stare. "We were told to bring both of you, but if I have to, I'll blow Blondie's head off and leave her here for your uniforms to find. Now get in the car."

Maura's eyes closed briefly, then opened wide, staring hard at Jane as if expecting some secret plan to pass between them. But the man held a .45 next to her temple, and they were both more than familiar with the path it would take if the trigger were pulled.

"Okay," Jane said, for the second time raising her hands placatingly in front of her. "Okay. But let her go. You've got me, you don't need her." Her voice was steady, the sound of a negotiator, but her pulse pounded in her temples, threatening to overshadow the man's low response.

"Nice try," he said. "But that's not what was decided. And it looks like it'll be nice to have this little one along, just to keep you well behaved." He clearly saw right through the thin polish of Jane's training; Maura was her one and only priority at that moment, and she couldn't pretend otherwise. That was his best weapon and he knew it. He stepped forward, shoving Jane into the front seat of the car and slamming the door. She turned immediately, watching as Maura was pushed into the back seat with little consideration given to her injury. "Watch her leg," she snapped as the taller man climbed in beside Maura, pushing her roughly toward the middle of the seat.

"What are you, her physician?" he asked, waving the gun in front of him. "Turn the fuck around."

"Actually, that would be me," Maura piped, her voice shaky, but adamant. "I'm the doctor."

Jane darted a confused glance at her, unsure as to whether she was truly being polite to their captors or whether she was attempting to create some distraction. It being Maura, however, she soon realized that the corrective words simply slipped out of her, despite the raised vein of worry pulsing at her temples. Jane used the minute distraction to her advantage, glancing quickly around the car and searching for anything she might be able to get her bound hands on. The tiny moments of transition were her best option, and she thought for a split second about lunging her feet over the center console and knocking the gun from the driver's hand. But the taller man already had his own gun back against Maura's temple, clearly unimpressed with her credentials.

The driver caught Jane's eye as he hit the power button, the car purring to life underneath them. "Can't believe I'm in a fucking Prius," he muttered. He turned fully toward Jane, noticing her roving eyes. "You're a resourceful one," he said with an almost admiring smile. "Probably how you managed to get away before, huh?"

"The same way I'm going to get away this time, too," she replied through clenched teeth.

He scratched his temple with the muzzle of his gun, nodding thoughtfully at her. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" he asked before lifting his gun and bringing it down hard against the side of her skull. Jane felt the sharp crack of pain, and somewhere inside the roar in her head she heard Maura call her name, but everything quickly faded into overwhelming blackness.

Maura cried out, lunging forward, her hands flailing towards the driver in an anger propelled only by panic, but she was pulled back by a rough hand in her hair. This time it was coupled with a swift kick to her leg, causing her to let out a strangled cry as she wrenched forward at the waist, pain rippling through her limb. Her phone slipped out of her blazer pocket and onto the floorboard, sliding toward her feet.

As the car back its way into the street, the large man bent down, picking it up the gadget. "This is the iPhone 4S?" he asked casually, as if he didn't have a gun pointed directly at the back of Maura's head. She chanced a look back at him, her leg still smarting from his ungracious kick, but nodded silently. His voice was loud and flat, which matched the broad features of his face. He shrugged, playing around with the phone, the screen lighting up under his fingers. "I'm a Droid."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, not understanding him, but with a gun being held toward her, not wanting to fully ignore him, either.

"I've got an Android phone," he clarified impatiently. "You mind if I play around with yours for a little while?"

The driver met his eye in the mirror, shaking his head with an almost paternal disappointment. "Jesus, Brad, what is she going to say, you've got a gun to her head. Think before you speak."

Brad shook his head, sneering back at him. "Don't mock me, Ted, I'm not in the mood."

Maura glanced at each of them in turn, finding it difficult to navigate between her own terror and their mundane bickering, but she nodded at Brad. "Yes, by all means. Enjoy." She leaned inconspicuously forward, searching Jane's belt buckle for her phone, but the holster was empty. Wherever she left it, Maura hoped someone would find it and be familiar enough with a certain iPhone tracking device to at least figure out where they were headed.

As they drove through the back streets of Beacon Hill, the lanes mostly deserted in the mid afternoon lull, the gun moved cautiously from Maura's temple down to her waist, out of sight. She searched for some way to offer a distress signal, knowing that the further they got from Boston, the more danger they faced. Statistics ran through her mind, most of them drilled into her after six years of working in forensics, but none of them helpful in her current state. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping to turn off the side of her brain that simply relayed the statistical chance of their survival. If she was going to get them out of this, she needed to hone in on her instincts.

If Jane were awake, she would ask questions, if only to pester the two men into slipping up or making some fatal mistake. The more she chiseled away at their control and the more she got them talking, the better. The silence was intimidating. She opened her eyes, leaning forward and attempting to gleam a look at Jane's temple, but her head was angled away from the center of the car, instead resting along the window. "Excuse me," she said, raising her eyes to meet Ted's in the rearview mirror.

He ignored her, taking a sharp turn onto a back two-lane road, away from even the most minimal traffic.

"Excuse me, sir," she repeated, inching further up on her seat. He finally glanced back at her, either amused by her politeness or perturbed by it. "Can I help you?" he asked, irritation buzzing through his voice.

"Do you mind telling me if there is a raised contusion on Detective Rizzoli's temple? There should be a slight pallor along the sphenoid bone."

His mouth dropped open slightly. "Are you kidding me?" His eyes moved toward his partner's. "Brad, you hearing this?"

Maura glanced back at the man beside her, but his eyes were still glued to her phone, enraptured by the tiny boxed applications on its screen. Ted rolled his eyes, returning his gaze to the road. Maura swallowed, but continued, taking her chances in pressing him further. "Do you know what will happen if a bruise does not form on her temple?" she asked. When she was met with silence, she spoke again, her own worry fueling her. "Bruising of the temporal tissue indicates outwards swelling, which doesn't impact the neurons in the brain. If swelling continues inward, increasing pressure on the brain tissue, she could suffer an aneurysm that could cause a life-threatening clot. And you would arrive at your destination only fulfilling half your bargain." She exhaled shakily, her breathy explanation causing her own pulse to quicken with fear. She just needed Jane to wake up.

The man eyed her in the mirror, raising one thin, brown eyebrow. "I guess if I'm going to end up killing _you_ for talking too damn much, I should make sure _she's_ okay, huh?"

Maura's lips parted, a sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead, but she nodded. "Yes, I would imagine so."

Ted shrugged, leaning over and pulling Jane's limp form up by the collar of her button-down and examining the side of her head. "Yup, a nasty bruise," he summarized, before letting her head drop back against the window with a low thud.

Maura heaved a sigh of relief, her bound hands clenching in gratitude. At this point, she was thankful for even the smallest of victories. She sat quietly for a few moments, preferring not to press her luck too far, and instead tried to make some semblance of their route. They had already branched off the small highway, and were now on a narrow two-lane, its edges surrounded by a cover of tall trees.

The driver fumbled with her radio, turning his nose up at the stations she had programmed. "What the hell is this liberal shit?" he mumbled, switching quickly to another frequency and turning up the sound, flooding the car with the nasal voice of a perturbed news radio host.

"Really, Ted, do we have to listen to this shit?" Brad lifted his head from the screen of Maura's phone, turning his nose up. "Just put it on KISS FM."

"When you drive, you can pick the radio station," came the snapped response. "And put that fucking phone away and monitor the radar. That's your job, remember?"

"I did offer to drive, remember?" Brad said in response. "And the app is open, it's right here," he offered, pointing to his own phone, which lay on his knee. Maura detected the glimmering screen of a police radar. She could only hope her own device kept him distracted.

Using the lull to her advantage, she piped up with another question. "Where are you taking us? Pittsfield?"

"What do you care?" Ted answered, not bothering to glance at her. "It's not like you're going to have much time to sightsee."

"Oh, I've already been to Pittsfield," she replied, giving him a small smile, meant only to ingratiate him. "Many times, back in college." She was undeterred by the roll of his eyes, and continued. "Do you work for Robert Moore?"

Ted raised an amused eyebrow at her. "How many other people you got trying to kill you, sweetheart?" He chuckled. "I work _with_ Moore, not for him. We're a non-hierarchical organization."

"Non-hierarchical, my ass," murmured Brad from the backseat. He angled Maura's phone towards her. "Hey, you don't have any friends on Words with Friends," he declared.

"It's a new application," she explained, cringing as he shifted in his seat, the gun digging into her ribs.

"Jesus, Brad, put that shit away, we're on a fucking job here." This time Ted turned toward the two of them, his gaze burning into his younger partner's. "Check the radar." He nodded toward Maura. "And get this one to shut up for a minute"

Brad simply shrugged, his face a blank mask as he looked over at Maura, pressing the gun harshly against her side. "Talk again, and I put a bullet into your gut."

Maura swallowed, nodding, but words gushed up her throat despite her fear. "You mean my intestines. Or my spleen."

"All of the above, _Doctor,_" he replied contemptuously, before glancing up at his partner with a satisfied expression. "See. Taken care of."

Maura pursed her lips, keeping her mouth closed as she kept her eyes on Jane, whose head was still lolled almost peacefully against the window, as if she were simply taking a nap on a long car ride. She attempted to keep her own shallow breathing at a nice, even pace, but she felt her nerves begin to unravel. She bit her lip, hard, hoping to keep her tears at bay. Jane would never cry.

* * *

Frankie sat at Jane's desk, twiddling his thumbs. In actuality, he could have been at his own apartment, twiddling his thumbs over his Wii control or at least catching up on a good dose of Game of Thrones. Instead, he had come into the precinct on his off day, hoping to tag along with Frost and Korsak. He had been met with a big, fat denial, which left him sitting alone in the precinct. His stomach grumbled, and he looked down at it, sighing. He could at least do something about that.

He made his way down to the cafe, where his mother was clearing a table by the door. "Frankie," she gushed, looking up at him with a wide smile. "I thought you were off today. What are you doing here? And why aren't you moving the rest of my things into the guest house?"

"Because I'd rather be here, wasting my time," he replied.

"You and Jane are such go-getters," she said proudly. "That comes from my side of the family, you know. My great-grandfather was a garbage collector. He came home smelling like trash for fifteen years before - "

"I know, I know, Ma," Frankie said with a wave of his hand. "Before he finally bought out the owner of the company and smelled like wealthy trash for the rest of his life. I've heard you tell that tale to Tommy a hundred times. It's not the best story, you know."

"You've heard me tell it a hundred times because it's a _great_ story," she miffed, but her expression didn't harden for long as she took in his slumped shoulders. "You want me to make you a tuna melt?"

Frankie glanced up at her, the corners of his mouth turning downward in a silent plea.

"You want me to make you some macaroni and cheese?" she asked, with a quick pat on his back.

He nodded, darting his eyes quickly around the cafe and hoping he didn't recognize anyone from the third floor. Jane might have gotten away with bunny pancakes, but he doubted the same would be true for him. "Thanks, Ma." His radio buzzed at his shoulder, static crackling through the cafe air.

_"Officer down at 3340 Beacon Place, send backup immediately."_

Both he and Angela looked at his shoulder, frozen, as if waiting for confirmation that the panicked voice wafting through its speakers was actually Jane. When the radio flickered back to full static, their eyes met, sharing the first glimmers of pure, unadulterated alarm.

"Frankie," Angela squeaked, unsteadily, her hand going out to the table.

He lunged out of his chair, letting it topple with an echo to the tiled floor. "Stay here, Ma." Whatever had just happened at Maura's he wasn't sure he was equipped to handle it, but his body moved toward the door of its own accord, his heart feeling as if were beating in his throat.

"I'm coming with you," he heard his mother say from behind him.

He whirled back to her, shaking his head and raising a firm hand. "No, Ma, let us handle this, okay. Stay here, and I'll call you as soon as I know something."

Angela threw her apron over her head, her eyes steeling with a sudden hardness, despite the quiver in her voice. "That is my daughter, and I am coming with you."

Frankie knew that look in her eyes. He had seen it the night of the car crash, and knew enough not to argue with her. Instead he responded directly into his radio as he bounded toward the door, Angela's worried footsteps keeping up with him at every stride. "Badge number 6782, en route to ten double-zero at 3340 Beacon Place." He blared the siren of his squad car, the jarring noise and the rushing static of his radio echoing the onslaught of worry that clouded his brain. He barely glanced at his mother as he sped through the downtown streets, but he saw her rocking with panic out of the corner of his eye, her lips moving in silent prayer. He opened his mouth to offer her some comforting words, but instead he just pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal.

As he pulled up to the curb along Maura's house, one other squad car and an ambulance ahead of him, he put a halting hand on his mother's shoulder. "Stay here, Ma, for now." He was surprised by the strength of his voice, but unsurprised by the shakiness of his knees as he stepped out of the car. A plainclothes cop sat along the curb, an oxygen mask over his nose, and the other was splayed on a stretcher, a paramedic hovering over him.

"That's Jane's car," Angela remarked from her seat, her voice trailing off in the silence. Unsure of whether to find relief in the observation or not, she wrenched open the door to the squad car and put her feet along the pavement, hoping that it would help steady her. As she watched Frankie and made his way toward the officers, she put her head between her knees, hoping that the next voice she heard would be her daughter's.

"What happened?" Frankie asked, lunging toward the driveway. "Where's Detective Rizzoli?" One of the uniforms turned to him, squinting into the sun, but his jaw hardened with empathy as he recognized Frankie. "Not sure. Two middle-aged men approached the unmarked car this afternoon, said they were insurance salesman needing help with directions. That's the last thing McCafferty and Dawson remember. Tranquilizers must have kept them out for over an hour. There's no sign of a break-in, but there is sign of a struggle outside the back door. We got officers working it now."

Frankie shook his head, fumbling for the phone at his side. Flicking on the screen, he saw his sister's name flash across his screen: a missed call. His stomach plummeted toward the black, rubber-soled shoes he wore, and frustrated anger prickled the backs of his ears. He had missed the call. Taking a chance, he dialed the number back, his shoulders tensing with each passing ring. He flicked it off at the sound of Jane's voicemail, his fingers somehow finding Korsak's name instead.

"Frankie, we just heard," the older detective answered, his voice sending a flood of relief through Frankie despite the fact that he was nowhere near Boston at the moment. "What do you got?"

He willed his voice not to sound so thin as he told Korsak and Frost what he knew, which was embarrassingly little at the moment. He was met with a brief second of silence before Korsak spoke again. "If they're en route to Moore, we'll find them. We'll get every police car in Western Massachusetts on a road block." Frankie nodded, hanging up and slipping his phone into his belt as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it disappeared with a sudden angry rush of adrenaline. He was in charge. He just hoped he had the courage to act like it.

"Let's keep this scene clear!" he yelled, walking briskly up the driveway. "We're preserving every print. Get uniforms up and down this entire block right now. We're talking to everyone on this street!" Jane's car was still parked along the curb, but Maura's Prius wasn't in the driveway. For a moment, he hoped the two of them had simply rushed off recklessly after the perps, but as he caught sight of Maura's discarded crutches and scattered purse, he felt another quick rush of panic sluice down his spine. As he made his way up the cobblestone path to the terrace, something glinted in the sunlight along the flowered pathway, and he leaned over, examining it. He pulled a glove out of his pocket, slipping it on before picking up the object, which he recognized immediately as his sister's phone.

He thought for a moment as he stared down at the security prompt that popped up on the screen, but quickly bypassed it, punching in his mother's birthdate. For a cop, Jane didn't exactly utilize the most stealthy of pass codes. He stared down at the screen as a number of bannered alerts flashed across it, each with its own map coordinate. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it, a deep crease lining the space between his eyes, but a spark ignited through him as he realized that he was staring at a real-time path of Maura's phone. Wherever they were headed, he was able to see it.

From the look of the maps, they were only forty minutes out of Boston, but they weren't heading toward Korsak and Frost, and were instead veering just slightly south. "Hey!" he yelled, prompting a stray officer to peer up at him. "I got a location on Rizzoli and Isles. I need roadblocks set up along Deloitte Highway, now!" He ran toward his own squad car, his heart pumping fast.

"What did you find?" Angela asked, her eyes the size of saucers. "Are they okay?"

"Ma, I need you to wait here until an officer can take you back to the precinct," he said, taking her hand.

She shook her head, pulling it away and leaning back in the passenger's seat.

"Ma, come on, let me do my job here," he pleaded, his authority wavering only slightly. "Every second is crucial."

Angela swallowed, her face morphing into a solidified stubbornness that Frankie had only seen once or twice before; but enough to know that she wasn't budging. "Then you'd better shut up and get in the car," she said lowly. "Because I'm coming with you."

He cringed, but rounded the car, his mother already turning the key in the ignition and hitting the siren. "Stubbornness run in your side of the family, too?" he muttered as he pulled away from the curb. He didn't expect an answer, and didn't get one. He kept his eyes on Jane's phone, following the tiny alerts that flashed on the screen. It was the only lead he had, and he hoped like hell it lead them in the right direction.

* * *

**I hope you all aren't too frustrated and that I haven't made fanfiction enemies. I really am working as fast as I can! **


	9. Pursuit

**Chapter Nine**

Maura's eyes hadn't moved from Jane in over twenty minutes, and they strained with the effort of focusing on the faint pulse at her neck. She willed the detective to wake up, already concerned with the length of time she had been unconscious, but Jane's only movement came with the jostle of the car as it forged potholes along the old two-lane that they had been traversing for almost an hour. The radio had edged into complete static, only the occasional sound of a scratchy human voice permeating the car. Maura's throat was dry and she eyed the bottle of water that sat in her cup holder, unable to remember when she had left it there. She took in the blue material of Jane's shirt, noting that it was missing a third button. Her thoughts had swung from the horrific to the mundane, a pendulum of nerves that was slowly dismantling the thin veil of bravery she had constructed.

Her head dipped back along the seat and she glanced anxiously at Brad, who was now intent on monitoring his phone and the little blue darts that indicated perusing police cars. Maura's phone had fallen between them, and she could only hope its tracking system had been initiated during her captor's explorations of it. If she could find out where they were headed and possibly get her hands on it, she could try sending another SOS. She watched the large, foreboding body next to her, noting the way his head bent forward, his teeth clenched in a hardened concentration. Moving her bound hands slightly, she let her fingers graze the hard plastic case of her phone.

"Why are you working for Moore?" she asked, directing her question to the open air. Her voice was strained and hoarse, mimicking the sound of the intermittent radio voices.

"We don't work for him," Brad corrected, his gun flitting casually towards her temple, causing her to move her hands back to her lap. "The company is equally owned; we're all shareholders."

Ted snickered from the front seat, tiredly shaking his head, as if he'd heard such an explanation one too many times. "I don't think you're an equal shareholder, Brad," he snorted, glancing at the younger man through the mirror. "As a math whiz, you ought to be able to figure that one out." His eyes met Maura's. "Tell her the real reason you're on board."

Brad's lips suckled into an unattractive pouch. "It's a lucrative opportunity," he answered vaguely, staring hard into the front seat. Maura sensed the tension between the two men, which had tilted from their captives onto themselves. She hoped it left her with an opportunity to exert some sort of a heroic effort, despite the fact that such a thing usually fell to Jane.

"Brad here is Rob's brother," Ted continued. "A math whiz, straight out of MIT, and one of the best engineers you'll ever meet, but he's missing the business sense that his big brother has."

"Is that why you're here?" Maura asked him, finally hitting on a subject that could keep them talking. "Robert has the infrastructure connections, Brad has the knowledge, and you have the business acumen?"

"You've pinned the pegs in the wheel," Ted replied, giving her a winning, if feigned, smile and revealing a row of low, straight teeth. "Too bad you and your girlfriend here were trying to drain the grease that makes it turn."

"We weren't the only ones," Maura pointed out.

"You're the only ones still alive," Ted retorted, his grin fading and his lips sliding back into a straight line.

Maura squinted out of the window to her right, taking note of a faded street sign as they passed by it. They were thirty miles outside of Pittsfield. That wasn't incredibly far from where she and Jane had ventured a couple of days earlier, and the quivers that ran through her stomach hardened into a hard knot of apprehension. This side of Massachusetts hadn't been kind to them in the past. "Are you taking us to the reservoir?" she asked. "In an attempt at some monomythical demonstration of our failed heroism?"

Ted gave her a mistrusting glance. "Don't give me that ivy tower bullshit."

"Hey, Ted, cut through the side street over here, we got a squad car about three miles ahead," Brad cut in, his shoulders still bent towards his radar screen.

Maura glanced down at his phone before studying him, hoping to distract him from spotting the next police car along their path. "Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Is it because Robert is your brother?"

"It's a lucrative opportunity," he repeated, not lifting his head.

"What's that worth when you're rotting in jail?"

He laughed, the forced sound prickling the hairs on her arms. "What if I told you I'm just a science geek?" he asked lightly. "I like the engineering part of it."

"Then you would know that the horizontal fracking method is one of the most destructive to the rock bed around it," Maura replied evenly, the science momentarily ousting the fear from her voice. "Aside from the earthquakes and the sinkholes, there's the pollution to local water, the satiation of toxic chemicals..."

"Oh, you want to debate the merits of fracking?" Brad asked, finally looking up at her with a pair of disillusioned gray eyes. "I'm all for it."

A movement from the front passenger's seat caught Maura's eye, her heart skipping as Jane spoke, her voice thick. "That is a bad move, pal," she muttered, putting a hand tentatively to her head. "You do not want to debate science with that one." She turned her head back as much as she could and gave Maura what she hoped was a confident, if drowsy smile. Her vision blurred as she turned back to the front, squinting against the afternoon sunlight and unable to focus on a road sign as it passed them by; she had absolutely no idea where they were.

"Jane," Maura sighed, leaning forward, but not far enough to attract the harsh hand of the man next to her; her scalp was still tingling from his earlier grip in her hair. "What's the capitol of Serbia?"

"I don't know," Jane mumbled, her pulse pounding on the left side of her head. Her jaw ached with the slight movement of speech, and she lay her head back briefly against the headrest, darting a look at the driver's seat. She was met with the hollow cylinder of Ted's gun.

"What's the circumference of the earth?" Maura asked again, seemingly unaware that her questions were not instinctually answerable by anyone with even an above-average IQ.

"I don't know," Jane repeated, frustrated. "These aren't exactly questions I knew before I got smacked in the face, either, Maura. I'm fine."

"For now," Brad humphed from the back seat, prompting Maura to pin him with a dirty look. She morphed it into a quick, beleaguered smile as he raised his hand menacingly toward her.

"Well, look who's awake," Ted remarked. He jerked a thumb towards Maura. "Your girlfriend's been wondering when you'd wake up. Maybe you can keep her quiet. Brad hasn't been doing that great a job of it."

Jane snuck a glance back at Maura, giving her a nervous smile, but mostly taking inventory of her body, making sure she hadn't been hurt. "You okay?" she asked, wanting some verbal confirmation.

"Yes," Maura nodded.

Jane noticed the small veins that rippled across her forehead, a physical imprint of Maura's concentrated distress, and she felt failure wash through her, filling her lungs. It was a look she had seen before, as if the blonde's wiring had been maxed to its breaking point, and she wished she had some way of wiping it away and replacing it with a relieved smile.

"You know, the two of you caused Robert a ton of trouble," Ted said, prompting her to turn and face him. "We had everything tied up neatly until you environmentalists came along."

Jane held up her cuffed hands, correcting him with a pointed finger. "We're not environmentalists - "

"Yes, we are," Maura piped from the backseat, giving Jane a corrective glance.

Jane rolled her eyes, an automatic gesture, but kept her gaze on Ted's gun. He noticed, grinning over at her. "You want me to give you another black eye to match the one you already got?"

"Why take us all the way out into the middle of nowhere?" she asked, skipping over the question and hoping her answer was implied. "For a bunch of bottom-dollar frackers, you guys don't seem to pride too much on efficiency."

Maura's voice sounded from behind them once again. "I would like to point out that at times the criminal mind differs slightly from the logical, rational processes of the quote-unquote normal mind. Reason can be skewed, due a slight mutation in the neurons of the amygdala."

Jane suppressed a smile, almost taking pleasure in the fact that both men had probably been subjected to such academic eruptions over the course of their drive. Maura may not have realized it, but it was her own way of wearing people down, and Jane just hoped it had worked its magic.

"Bodies are easier to dispose of out here," Ted answered pointedly, with a glance at the back seat.

Maura swallowed, but shook her head. "Actually, the reservoir toxicity concentration wasn't high enough to do acute damage to tissue. It would take days for it to fully decompose a body due to the dilution of the runoff."

"She ought to know," Jane said. "This one here is the 'Queen of the Dead'."

Ted eyed Maura, his lip twitching in twisted pleasure. "Well, in less than a couple of hours, you really will be 'Queen of the Dead'. And Yosemite Sam over here – " he jerked his thumb at Jane – "can be your King. But we're not headed to the reservoir, sweetheart."

"What a pity," Jane murmured. "Maura and I have been dying to go back."

Maura couldn't quite summon the strength to smile, her zygomatic muscles having been paralyzed from fear, but the sound of Jane's confident, level voice did give her some comfort. Maura may have had the ability to analyze physiological cues, but Jane could sense perpetrators' moves as if she shared some symbiotic connection with them. It had gotten her out of plenty of scrapes before, and Maura hoped it would come in handy again before their drive came to an end.

"Hey, stay on this road, Ted, we got another road block forming about six miles up the road," Brad called, his brow arching as he cocked his head toward his phone.

Maura stiffened next to him, and felt Jane's eyes dart back at her before resting on the iPhone that sat abandoned on the seat. She said nothing, but Maura saw the quick flicker of calculation, then the widening of her pupils that came with implicit understanding: that phone was their lifeline. Jane quickly diverted her gaze back to the front, keeping her face expressionless, but was afraid the uptick in her pulse could be heard over the low static of the radio. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so grateful for one of Maura's geekier predilections.

Maura felt Brad's eyes on her, as if he sensed some tacit information passing between his two captives. She spoke up in an attempt to break his concentration, peeling his eyes away from his radar. "Where are you storing the natural gas?" she asked. "Is it near the disposal wells?"

She didn't get an answer, but she did manage to get Jane's attention, and the brunette snuck a look at them, her eyes narrowing as Brad plucked the iPhone up, pondering it. "She'll just keep asking," Jane replied, her voice carrying louder than it should, as she hoped to continue their game of distraction. "She takes silence as a sign of stupidity."

Brad was unresponsive, his lip curling as he flicked through Maura's phone, pulling up icons she didn't even realize she had. His thumb paused over one, and he turned his studied gaze to Maura. She forced her forehead to relax as she met his eyes, hoping he didn't ask her a direct question, although hives didn't seem like such a bad thing in comparison to dying. Without a word, he rolled down his window, and Maura knew viscerally that he had discovered their secret. "No!" she blurted, attempting to catch his arm. He shrugged her off, hurling the phone out into the passing green blanket of grass, and with it, any semblance of hope Maura had left.

She panicked, her bound hands lunging over him at the open window. Brad moved surprisingly fast, clamping a hand around her throat and pushing her against the opposite side of the car with a low growl. The gun flashed towards her, stopping at the corner of her mouth, and she let out a strangled, startled cry.

"What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?" he demanded, leering over her and ruffling a frenzied hand underneath her blazer. Her breaths came in ragged, painful jabs as she tried to keep still, the gun grating threateningly against her chin.

The violence in the backseat exploded quickly, but Jane whipped fully around, ignoring the gun that Ted raised at her and reaching her bound hands around her seat. "Don't you touch her!" she yelled. The car jerked as Ted pulled abruptly off the road, pushing Jane back in her seat, but she fought her way forward, needing to get Brad's hands off of Maura.

"You try anything like that again, this goes straight into your mouth, you got it?" Brad spat, the barrel of his gun inching toward Maura's lips. She let out a gargled cry of frustration, stray tears of resignation and pent up fear leaking from her eyes. She shook her head, hoping to appease him in some way, but her voice failed her.

"Let go of her," Jane pleaded, attempting to use her legs to fight her way toward the back seat. The chilling, bone-hurtling crack of a gunshot stopped her cold, her insides searing with terror as she registered the hollow, smoking muzzle of Ted's gun in front of her. She waited for the pain, or the sensation of flowing blood, but it didn't come, and she turned slowly to the passenger window, where a small bullet hole had penetrated through it. She twisted back to him slowly, her hands in front of her. "Okay," she breathed, her desperation snagging the roof of her mouth as she forced herself to speak. "Don't hurt her."

"Everyone, calm the fuck down," Ted instructed calmly, ignoring her, but keeping his gun still trained neatly on her. He glanced toward the back seat. "Brad, reign in your goddamn temper and focus on the fucking radar. I don't want any more disruptions, is everyone clear on that?"

Brad glanced over his shoulder, grimacing, but pulled back, settling into his seat. "Fucking Big Brother companies," he murmured, directing his attention back his original task. "Making money off taking other people's privacy."

Maura's breath returned to her body in a shaky gust that rattled her lungs, but she stayed pressed against the window, too afraid to move. Jane peeked around the seat, her own eyes still wide with concern. "You okay?" she asked, but before Maura could respond, Ted jerked her back impatiently into her seat.

"You turn around, or even look at her again, we ride the rest of the way with one less body, you got it?"

Jane nodded slowly, biting her lip in unexpressed rage. She thought about her odds of grabbing the wheel, but one more bullet and she was a goner. And that left Maura alone, which was not a risk she was willing to take. She needed to be patient.

Maura's breaths were still coming in ragged heaves from the back seat and as Jane glanced in her side mirror, she could see the strained rivulets of nerves pinching above the smaller woman's eyes. That unbridled expression of hopelessness frightened her more than any promise of physical pain, and she spoke up, hoping to ease it. "Maura," she said softly, keeping her eyes obediently forward.

She got no response, and tried again, her tone still gentle, but firm. "Maur."

She heard a sharp inhale. "Yes," Maura replied shakily.

"We're okay," Jane continued, trying to catch her eye in the mirror, needing to establish some contact with her. "You're okay."

Maura closed her eyes, attempting to silo Jane's voice from the rumble of the car, the static of the radio, and the burning sensation the gun had left against her chin. "Yes," she said again.

Jane's tone was still even, if huskier and slightly hoarse. "If you hyperventilate on me, Maur, we'll never make it to Chateau du Blah, okay?"

Maura felt a smile inside of her, even if she couldn't make her lips do anything more than tremble a quivering response. "Yes."

"We're okay," Jane said again, her words almost meditative as Maura nodded into them, letting them float over her.

Her pulse steadied, only slightly, but enough for her to open her eyes, confronting their reality once again. "We're okay," she confirmed, her eyes finally finding Jane's in the side mirror, the two of them taking comfort in sharing whatever connection they could, even if it was only a reflective glance.

"Jesus," Ted muttered, flicking the radio louder and searching for a station. "I can handle NPR better than this load of estrogen."

"It's not estrogen," Jane countered, but her voice was still soft, directed solely at Maura. "It's a much more complicated, dynamic chemical than that. It's a 'miracle of the human brain'," she finished, reciting the words that had looped pleasurably in her mind ever since Maura uttered them to her in the guest house. "Right Maur?"

Maura nodded, recalling the shared memory, and felt an unsolicited tear slide down her cheek. Raising her cuffed hands, she wiped it quickly away, as if by doing so she could erase the fear that had settled almost permanently into her chest. Jane's confident voice didn't give away her fear, but Maura had seen the uncertain look in her eyes. And she was fully aware of the promise that Jane hadn't been able to make: _We will get out of this._

* * *

Frankie had followed the roving dot on Jane's phone for over half an hour, and was beginning to suspect that the sporadic turns of Maura's Prius had more to do with the road blocks he had organized than with their intended route.

"Why haven't we caught up with them?" Angela asked, her fingers dancing nervously over the tops of her knees. She hadn't stopped moving since she'd gotten into the squad car, her body a tight ball of electric nerves.

"They keep changing routes," Frankie replied, knitting his brow. "They must have police radar or something." He kept his speed up, using his siren intermittently, but he had little reason to do so considering how few cars they had come across along the ruddy two-lane highway. But it was something to occupy his fidgeting hands, which had tapped a nervous rhythm over his steering wheel.

"This is my worst nightmare," Angela murmured, her eyes pinned out the front windshield, as if at any given moment she would spot Maura and Jane hiding among the trees. "This is every mother's worst nightmare."

Frankie stole a glance at her, for once understanding his mother's plight. Growing up, and even going through the academy, his goal had been to be more like Jane. She may have been a girl, but she was always his biggest idol, and he wanted to carry himself with the same confidence and ease as she had. In the same vein, he wanted to be as good a cop as she was. Jane wasn't afraid to put herself at risk to do some good in the world, and as he had gotten to see her know Maura, he saw that same will put towards their relationship. She had been in danger before, but this felt entirely too visceral. For the first time he understood what his mother must feel every day that they went into that precinct.

"Ma, we'll get to them," he assured her.

"I want to get to them _in time_," she clarified, her voice catching in her throat. "God, how can a mother let her children go through this?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, surprised by the sudden guilt trip. "Ma, what are you talking about? This isn't your fault."

"I can't believe I let the two of you become cops," she said with a bitter shake of her head. "I should have put my foot down and made you both go to college. Then each of you would be settled down with a nice... girl."

"Jane and I would've become cops with or without your permission," he reminded her. "You know that."

"It was all that 'cops and robbers' when you were kids," she lamented, still stuck on her own fabricated mistakes. "I should have put a stop to it. I bet you mothers these days don't let their kids play those types of violent games."

"Ma, you're talking crazy here. Not that it's any different than you normally talk."

"Of course I'm talking crazy!" Angela exclaimed, her voice straining. "Both of my girls are in danger."

Frankie knew all too well the danger they were in, and could offer no more words of comfort to her. Instead, he simply reached over and rubbed her shoulder, dropping the phone in the middle console. Angela picked it up, studying the blue dot that they had spent forty minutes attempting to track. "Is it supposed to be moving?" she asked.

"What? Yeah, of course." Frankie reached for it, studying the stagnant blue target, even as his foot pressed harder on the gas. "It's stopped," he said. "They've stopped." He reached for his phone, dialing Korsak, his voice edgy as the detective answered on the first ring.

"I got a location," he stated, wasting no time. "They're right outside Northampton, along Appalachian Ridge Highway. I'm headed there now with one squad car as backup. I'll radio the location to the locals, and have them get there as soon as they can."

Korsak's voice sounded relieved, but he managed to keep his praise professionally minimal. "Good work, Frankie."

"Uh huh," Frankie responded, less than eloquently, but that was all he could manage at the moment. He tossed the phone back in the center console, his fingers resuming their nervous beat along the steering wheel. The hard part was over. Now he just had to make sure Jane and Maura were still alive. And keep them that way.

* * *

"Pittsfield," Jane read, managing to catch the name from a faded green sign as they zoomed past it. "What is that, the arm pit of Massachusetts?" She waited for Maura to quip something informative, or relay the population and staple crops of the town, but there was only silence from the backseat, which worried her. Maura had at least kept up the semblance of their banter in the beginning, more than likely as a way to deal with her own fear, but now that terror seemed to be catching up with her. Jane hadn't heard her utter a word in more than twenty minutes.

Ted scoffed at her. "More like the toilet of Western Mass. Used to be an old waste water treatment plant out here. It was the biggest in Massachusetts, back in the eighties."

Maura's voice sounded from the back seat, and Jane smiled briefly as she recognized that brief flicker of earnest curiosity that she had been missing. "Waste water treatment?"

Jane chanced a glance at her as Maura leaned forward slightly in her seat. "Dr. Isles has a thing for waste water," she teased, repeating her own phrase from earlier that day. Now they struck a bitter chord in her, plucking at the strings of worry that seemed to be attached directly to her heart.

"Are you processing chemical runoff there?" Maura pressed.

Ted glanced at her, pushing her back slightly with the muzzle of his gun. "Why are you people always so interested in things like this?" he asked. "Do you really expect to survive to tell a jury, or are you really just that curious?"

"Curious," Maura and Jane replied in unison.

"We don't just process runoff there," Brad contributed, seemingly bored with the few dots that littered his radar now that they were no longer being tracked. "We store production there. It's closer to the border."

Maura looked over at him, his sudden burst of anger from before still causing her to tread carefully. "When is the last time that plant was inspected? It can't be up to code regulations, especially not when storing something as implosive as natural gas."

"Where do you think I come in?" Brad replied with a pointed gaze at Ted. "This is why I am an equal shareholder."

Ted rolled his eyes. "Just keep any more transformers from going underwater, then we can talk equal shares," he said.

"That issue was handled," Brad spat defensively. "If you guys hadn't hired a bunch of lugs with no capacity for simple high-pressure chemical reprocessing methods, we'd be fine."

"What can I say," Ted responded irritably. "Good help is hard to find. You can't even get a good murder-for-hire these days. Got to do everything yourself."

* * *

Frankie glanced down at Jane's phone, eyeing the taunting blue dot that they were now on top of, and searched the area ahead of him. He hadn't seen a car for six miles, and there was no way a Prius was hiding in the deep thicketed trees that sidled the road. He pulled over with a frustrated shake of his head, a dreadful realization drudging through his brain: he wasn't finding the car because it wasn't there. The phone was there, abandoned, discarded after its discovery, but the car was long gone. He felt his failure as a vertiginous pressure behind his eyes, and he walked around to the back of the car so as to keep his face hidden from his mother.

He plucked his own phone from his holster, dialing Maura's number. Sure enough, he heard the familiar sound of the Transformers blare into the silence, a ringtone specifically for him that Jane had programmed into her own phone as well. It had been their favorite cartoon on Saturday mornings, Jane, him, and Tommy piling onto the couch to watch, each fighting over whose milk had turned the most disgusting color from their sugary cereal. Frankie walked towards the sound and caught the glint of the screen, ending the call and effectively silencing the music and the memory. "Shit," he muttered, his voice catching eerily in his throat as his theory was confirmed. "SHIT!" he yelled into the thickness of the trees, hurling his frustration and anger into them.

He heard the car door slam, his mother's footsteps grinding the gravel underneath her Keds. "What's going on?" she asked. "Is that Maura's phone?"

"Yeah," Frankie muttered, nodding as he turned back to her, once again putting on a game face that was slowly exhausting him. "They must have found the tracking app and gotten rid of it."

"No," Angela said, grabbing the phone from him and stabbing her fingers desperately against the carefully ordered icons. "It has to tell us something else, like where they're going. They would have left us a clue."

"Ma, just get back in the car," he coaxed, taking the phone from her as he spotted the second squad car approaching them from the distance. As far as he knew, there had been no texts or notes on the phone. I there had been, he wouldn't have felt so deflated. "I need to reroute these guys," said flatly.

Angela didn't follow his instructions and instead walked towards the trees and placing her hands on her knees, physically letting her worry drag her toward the rocky ground. Nausea unsettled her, and she was grateful she hadn't had the time to eat lunch.

Frankie dialed Frost this time, letting a pause hang in the air after the detective answered. "The phone was tossed," he finally confided. "I got nothing here. They're gone."

"Shit." He heard Korsak grunt in the background, then the sound of something jostling in the car before Frost spoke again. "What the hell is on that side of Massachusetts?"

Frankie squinted his eyes shut, and suddenly the image of Moore's companies scrolled through his mind. "A treatment plant," he muttered, the words kindling a spark of hope inside him.

"A what?"

"Frost, hang on a second." Frankie motioned for one of the local uniforms, placing a hand on his shoulder as his eyes bored into him. "You know of any waste water treatment plants around here?" he asked urgently, shifting anxiously on the balls of his feet.

The man thought for a moment, his eyes rolling briefly up into his head toward the gallon hat he wore. Frankie hadn't even thought they existed outside of the old cop shows he and Jane used to watch. "Yeah, sure is, but it's been shut down for about fifteen years."

"Where is it?"

"About twenty miles west of here, along Trenton Trail. That where you think they're headed?"

Frankie looked up at him, narrowing an eye. "I don't know. But I'm running on instinct now. Let's get over there." He directed his attention back to his phone. "Frost, you get all that?"

"Got it. We're heading your way as fast as we can."

"We're en route." Frankie hung up, looking for his mother, finding her still in the same position, her head hanging almost to her knees. "Ma, I may have something," he said, jogging over to her. "Listen, you want to head back with this nice policeman and go to the local precinct? I'll let you know as soon as I find something."

Angela straightened, her eyes shiny and hard, like plastic. "Do I look like the type of mother who wants to sit around with Barney Phife while her girls are in trouble? You know me better than that, Frankie Rizzoli."

"Ma - "

She held up a hand, her eyes moist with emotion that she had so far managed to keep at bay. "If something bad should happen, I don't want to be told by some stranger while I'm sitting at a police precinct twiddling my thumbs. I'm coming with you." She headed towards the car, brushing his back with her hand. "This isn't over yet. Let's go get our girls."

* * *

Maura leaned closer toward the window as they turned down a narrow road, which had at one point been paved, but was now so dilapidated that her car traversed it as if it were a gravel path. Four large, cylindrical structures loomed ominously ahead of them, abandoned in a large clearing. A warehouse of sorts sat alongside them, indiscrete, with nothing so much as creeping water stains along its sides to identify it. As far as passerby was concerned, this was still an abandoned waste water treatment site.

Jane peered out of the front windshield, her mouth parting. "This does not look fun."

"Maybe not," Ted said. "But for us, it will be plenty satisfying." He opened his car door, but before Jane could take advantage of the small, transitive moment, she heard Maura yelp from behind her. Brad had already pulled her towards him, the gun against her head, and he eyed Jane, daring her to make a move.

The passenger door was yanked open, and Ted waved his gun down at her. "Get out," he directed.

Maura shook her head, straining against the arm across her chest. Neither knew what awaited them outside of the car, but she didn't want Jane finding out alone.

As if reading her thoughts, Jane refused. "Not without her," she said, pointing to the backseat.

"I don't know what makes you think you're in the position to negotiate," he said harshly. "But I think I've got the upper hand." He waved his gun. "She stays. Now get out."

"No," Maura protested, squirming. The gun inched closer to her head, pressing against her temple.

Ted peeked into the car, glancing over Jane's shoulder. "We could switch it up," he offered. "You can flip a coin for all I care. But someone's going to die first." He paused for a moment, looking at each of them in turn. "No takers?" he asked coyly before yanking Jane's arm, pulling her roughly out of the car. "Looks like it's gonna be you, Detective."

* * *

**I really have enjoyed the late nights writing this, but it would make it even better to hear from you all as to whether you're enjoying the ride as well (horrible allusion to this chapter, but you get my drift).**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**Cat, Ren, thanks for the pre-read!**


	10. Blast

**Chapter Ten**

As Jane was pulled out of the car, Maura's terror lodged itself fully in her throat, preventing her from uttering nothing more than a gargled cry. The drive had been agonizing, but the sudden separation seemed more violent than anything she had been subjected to in the car. As the front door slammed shut, effectively cutting off the last semblance of connection she had to Jane, she elbowed Brad hard, lunging forward. "No!" she managed, desperation hitching her voice a note higher, and she kicked at the door with her good leg, fumbling it open and spilling out into the pebble-strewn grass.

Jane turned at the sudden scuffle, jerking forward as Maura tumbled out of the car, but Brad bolted behind her in a second, pulling her up and wrangling her against him. Maura struggled, despair sucking dry any will she had left to cooperate with their captors. Jane recognized the ferociousness; it was born out of resigned fear and sheer desperation, and she wished she could do something to quell it. She wasn't so certain they would get lucky with a just a warning gunshot this time.

"Jesus, Brad," Ted muttered, a hand still clamped firmly around Jane's bicep. "She's barely bigger than a minute, and you can't keep her under control?"

"I'm coming with her," Maura said matter of factly, her voice matching the fire in her eyes. Jane tried to siphon her gaze towards her, if only to help calm her, but Maura was fixed solely on Ted, daring him to deny her.

"You weren't invited," Ted snapped back at her, tugging Jane toward the warehouse.

Jane put up a slight resistance, digging the heels of her feet into the ground. "Can I have a second with her?" she requested, intentionally keeping her voice feeble. Ted liked to feel that he was in charge, otherwise he wouldn't have wasted so much time railing against his younger partner, and Jane was fine playing into his fantasy if it got her what she wanted. She morphed her expression into one more vulnerable, her eyes imploring him. "Just give me a moment with her. Please."

He didn't remove his hand from around her arm, but loosened his grip enough for her to pull out of it and take a quick step toward Maura, who wrestled herself away from the arm snaked around her chest. Brad's gun, however, was still trained firmly at her head, and Jane imagined Ted had adopted the same stance behind her. That didn't stop her from focusing wholly on their stolen moment, and she reached forward, taking Maura's cuffed hands in her own. "We'll get out of this this," she said lowly, angling her head so as to impose as much privacy as she could on their hurried words.

Maura's hardened expression crumbled, her strength seemingly caving in on itself. "I'm coming with you," she protested.

Jane didn't like the thought of being apart from Maura, not even for a moment, but she also knew that the blonde was the only thing she had to lose, which had kept her from attempting anything risky. If they were separated, she may just have a chance at saving both of them. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm going alone."

Maura blanched at the refusal, as if the words were some sort of betrayal. "Yes," she pressed, her eyes searching Jane's. "We've come this far together."

Jane reached up, cupping Maura's face with both hands and letting her thumbs trace the dried tear tracks along her cheeks. "I love you," she said quietly. "And they know that. I'm going to get us out of this, but I can't have them use you as leverage."

Maura's shoulders shook as she bit her lower lip, attempting to keep her sobs sidled safely inside of her. "I don't want you to be alone in there," she insisted. "I want to be with you." Her voice finally crumbled in the same manner that her face had, trailing off into a small, quiet whimper as she dipped her head, squeezing her eyes shut. A light tremble passed through her as a tear trailed down her cheek, pooling at Jane's thumb.

"Maur, look at me," Jane pleaded. Maura slowly opened her eyes, the sunlight magnifying the loss inside them. Jane struggled to keep her voice from wavering, and instead lowered it to just above a whisper. "They haven't won yet. Remember that."

Maura nodded, her brow creasing and the corners of her mouth turned downward in a deep, encompassing frown. Jane had a visceral need to erase that forlorn expression and lift it into a smile. She had every intention of making it out of the warehouse alive, but she needed to see Maura as she had that afternoon in the middle of Whole Foods: a smile glowing brightly up at her, a world of new possibility in front of them. She let her forehead rest against Maura's, her lips already smiling at the memory. "Remember, breast friends forever."

Maura's face blossomed at the recollection, her eyes brightening with an unemcombered, shaky laugh. The idea that a simple rememberence could bring her so much joy under such a crushing weight of reality surprised her, and it disintegrated almost as soon as it began. "I love you," she said, her eyes serenely clear.

Jane leaned down, letting her lips graze Maura's. "I'll hold you to that when I get back," she said almost playfully, but her brown eyes darkened with honesty. "I love you, too," she murmured, sealing her words inside of Maura with a second desperate kiss.

"Alright," Ted grunted, taking a step forward and jerking Jane toward him. "I can watch this type of shit on the internet all day long without the drama. Let's go." He glanced at Brad, thumbing his nose at Maura. "Think you can handle this little one until I get back?"

Brad took a step forward in response, his face twisted in a grimace, and he jerked Maura back by her hair, eliciting a surprised yelp of pain from her. Jane's lower lip crumbled, and she glared at him, again tasting blood as she bit the inside of her cheek. As Ted yanked her forward, she stumbled momentarily, unable to keep from glancing over her shoulder and giving Maura a small, assuring nod. She would be back.

Maura felt a silent sob beginning to split her chest, but she reigned it in as she felt Brad's gun edge its way down her back. She let her legs collapse underneath her, grateful that he didn't try to hold her up. As she watched Jane disappear into a door along the right side of the building, she was filled with a reckless despair that seemed to stretch through her, almost rooting her to the ground.

"I don't like crying," Brad said, pacing in front of her, his gun by his side. "You're ruining the ambience."

Hatred coiled inside her, and as she looked up at him she felt it spring upward with a power that unnerved her. She kept her eyes squarely on the gun he tapped against the side of his cargo pants. If Jane was going to take a risk inside the warehouse, then she could do the same. The condition of her leg would limit her ability to physically over power him; as always, she would have to resort to using her brain.

* * *

A dank smell greeted Jane as she was pushed into the warehouse, the door reverberating shut in the large, mostly vacant space. A small office was tucked away in one corner, merely a desk surrounded by three glass walls. A far wall along the back hid what looked to be shelves filled with cannisters, spare parts, and a few other knicknacks she could only suppose helped with whatever they were storing in the large, cylindrical tanks outside. Stairs lead to a second floor loft, where footsteps echoed on the tiled floor. Moore looked down at her with a wide, welcoming smile as he walked down the steps, clapping his hands. "Well, well, Detective Rizzoli. I must say you staged a grand exit that last time we were together."

She glared up at him. "You tell me what you want and you'll get it, but you're going to have to let Dr. Isles go."

As he approached her, he glanced toward the door with a comprehending nod. "Ah," he said. "Dr. Isles. A brilliant mind gone to waste, if you ask me. But we might get something out of her yet."

Ted moved somewhere behind her and Jane struggled to make sense of the space around her. If she wanted to get out of it alive, she needed to understand it. So far, she had only spotted the one door that she had entered through, but imagined there was a second hiding behind the back wall. If ever she had needed an emergency exit, now seemed like the time. "Quite an operation you've got here," she observed, nodding toward a narrow window that looked out at the large tanks. "Much larger scale than those darling little boring wells at the reservoir."

Moore nodded, glancing around the building with a flourish of his hand, as if showing off a new home. "Don't worry, we've got some here as well. Too bad you couldn't visit during a normal working day, and really see how things work. But I like to keep this unfortunate part of the business between a select group of trusted colleagues."

"Glad I could be a part of the VIP crowd," Jane quipped. The banter came easily; after all, it was the only thing keeping her alive. She felt Ted move behind her, and she took a small step backwards, wanting to widen the range of her vision. "If I'm VIP, why don't you be a gracious host and take these off?" she asked casually, raising her bound hands.

Moore eyed her carefully, but didn't respond, prompting Jane to roll her eyes. "What, do I look like I'm in a position to go all She-Hulk on you?" she asked incredulously, nodding toward the guns that both of them held. "You two clearly have the upper hand here. I'd just like my circulation back."

Moore grinned, nodding at Ted and motioning toward her wrists. "We're all dignified people." His eyes flashed towards Jane with a sudden venom. "Although I doubt lack of blood flow is going to be a problem for you in about ten minutes."

Jane grimaced as Ted rounded in front of her, grabbing her hands as he sliced through the plastic wire. As soon as she had both hands free, she acted quickly, darting a hand directly at his nose. The loud, sudden crack was rewarding, but not as much as it would have been had she had the opportunity to do the same to Brad. He lunged angrily towards her, but Moore intervened, grabbing him and pulling him back with a strong arm. "Don't worry, Teddy, she'll regret that soon enough."

Jane smiled warmly at the newly injured man, pleased with her handiwork as a line of blood ran steadily from his nose, but she was even more grateful for what came next. "Go get cleaned up," Moore said, eyeing the red drops decorating Ted's shirt. "You don't want to miss all the fun."

Ted brushed roughly past her, but she swallowed her grin as his footsteps echoed behind her. She heard the swing of a door and her pulse quickened with adrenaline. If she was going to act, it would have to be now. One on one was a much better game of odds for her.

* * *

Outside, Maura watched as Ted loped away from her toward a bush just off the side of the drive. He brushed its leaves before plucking a few red berries off of its branches and holding them up into the sunlight. A new possibility flickered haphazardly in her brain, much like the static voices on the radio, and she worked to quickly tease it out, realizing her time was limited.

"If I were you," she said nervously, finally acknowledging him, "I would make sure those aren't poisonous."

Brad glanced down at her, then at the berries settled in the palm of his hand. "These aren't poisonous," he said, dismissing her, but she caught his hesitation and decided to use it.

"Are you certain?" she asked. "The actaea pachypoda bush grows wild along the Western interior of Massachusetts. It's the same berry that killed explorer John Angiosos in 1988 and has been known to cause cardiac arrest in even the smallest amounts. You should check to make sure it doesn't have a viscous skin." As the dubious look in his eyes flickered into full uncertainty, she pressed him further. "Does your knowledge of plantlife resemble your knowledge of business? If so, then I would think twice. Or else Ted will simply have another reason to dismiss you."

"You're a know-it-all, aren't you?" he demanded, walking over to her, berries in one hand and gun in the other. "You know what, how about you test them out for me," he suggested, extending his arm toward her.

He was only a couple of feet from her, but she needed him closer if she was going to successfully execute her next move, and she shook her head, politely declining. "No thank you."

He did exactly as she hoped, leaning forward with a menacing stare, ready to force the berries down her throat. She took a chance, raising her good leg and slamming her stiletto heel into his groin. He let out a pained moan, in a pitch higher than she thought him capable of, and fell to his knees, the gun dropping. He reached weakly for it, but Maura beat him to it, scrambling to her knees and pointing it directly at him. As he fell onto his side, his face wrenched in agony, she made quickly for the car a few steps away and reached into the glove compartment, searching for a pair of nail clippers she kept there. Keeping her eye on Brad, who was still writhing on the ground a few feet in front of her, she used the small blade to slice quickly through her bonds. The air stung her chafed wrists, but she kept both of her hands on the gun, still aiming it towards her former assailant.

"Fuck," Brad exhaled, sitting up, but as he eyed Maura's outstretched hands, the irony of his situation struck him with a pained laugh. "Something tells me you've never shot a gun before," he said, his lip twitching. Maura could see him mentally calculate the distance between them.

"I'm dating a cop," she answered, her eyebrow raising. "Do you really want to test that hypothesis?"

* * *

Inside the warehouse, Moore pegged Jane with a corrective, if somewhat amused eye. "I expected more than a sucker punch from you, Detective," he said, taking a step toward her. "That doesn't quite seem like your style."

"What can I say, I'm not as enlightened as you," she replied tersely, keeping her arms loosely at her sides. She wanted to keep him comfortable, hoping that at some point his confidence would make him sloppy.

"I always look forward to an enlightenment moment," Moore said. "Like today." He glanced down at the barrel of his gun, examining it with a thoughtful look. "I've thought about you and Dr. Isles a lot over the past two days. I've been waiting to see you again. Closure is important for a clear mind."

"What about a clear conscience?" Jane retorted, resisting the urge to run her thumbs across the scars on her palms, which were sweaty with apprehension. She had to find her window before Ted joined them again.

Moore aimed the gun at her, squinting one eye closed as he tried out various targets on her body, moving from her head, to her chest, to her gut. "My conscience is just fine," he answered. "Meditation helps with that."

Jane's eyes followed the gun only for a moment, but she pulled her gaze stubbornly away from it. "Don't feed me that yogi bullshit, or the rehab bullshit, or even the wastewater management bullshit. You've dug your own fucking grave here. With or without my testimony, we've got enough to put you away for a good thirty years."

He laughed, tilting his head as he studied her. "I don't think it's my grave I'm going to be digging today."

As he kept the gun trained squarely on her, Jane was far from a meditative state, her mind concentrated solely on the hollow of the barrel, which was pointed directly at her chest. Any quip she was about to offer back at Moore was cut short by a low growl from beneath them, as if the ground itself were murmuring. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "What the hell was that?" she asked, confusion overtaking her fear, if only for a moment.

For once, Moore's eyes were less confident, a small flicker of worry creasing his forehead as he brought the gun back to his side. "Ted!" he called, his tone taking on that of a manager rather than a murderer. Another brief rumble shuddered under them, and this time Jane took advantage of it, stepping forward and launching her fist directly into Moore's throat. He was caught off guard, and she used the brief instant to jab her hand down onto his arm, ripping the gun from his grasp. As she leveled her finger on the trigger, another grumble sounded beneath them, the walls vibrating lightly. A door slammed behind her, hurried footsteps echoing briefly before they stopped, and she turned, locking eyes with Ted, but he seemed more preoccupied with the tremble at their feet than with the fact that she held a gun pointed directly at him. Moore heaved breathlessly beside her, his hand still locked on his pulsing throat.

Whatever was going on, the two men seemed to know more about it than she did, and Jane only had to take in their horrified expressions before she put her legs into action. A hiss came from behind her, the sound of metal flicking against metal, and she lunged forward. Instinct propelled her, but not fast enough, and the back wall of the warehouse imploded in on her with a rupturing boom, staining her world with a sharp, fiery chaos.

* * *

Frankie skidded along the narrow road, following too closely behind the local squad car in front of him, and he hoped the officer in the gallon-size hat wouldn't suddenly decide to hit his brakes. His uniform was tight around his neck, to the point where he could feel his pulse knocking against it, and he reached up, ripping open the buttons of his collar. His heart raced as he caught sight of a group of cylindrical structures along the road ahead of him, and his foot hit the gas harder, veering around the patrol car and giving the driver a tactical signal to follow him. He recognized the Prius in the distance, and as they got closer, he saw Maura and a second man outside of it on the grass. His throat tightened. He didn't see Jane.

"Maura!" Angela cried, launching forward in her seat, but Frankie glowered over at her as his tires crunched to a halt halfway down the drive, and he turned to her, his eyes burning with urgency.

"Ma, you don't get out of this car until I tell you to, I mean it," he said, his voice harsh. "I need to do my job here."

She nodded, her eyes still locked on Maura. "Is that a gun?" she asked, squinting.

* * *

Maura heard the telltale sound of an engine, a euphoric, almost debilitating sigh rising in her, mimicking the trail of dust stirring along the car's path as it sped along the narrow road. "If I were you, I wouldn't move," she said to Brad. "They have much better aim than I do."

It was the rumble behind her that caught her attention next, and for a second she thought they were being surrounded by squad cars from all sides. She turned, her sudden relief trumped by a sinister feeling in the pit of her stomach as the ground trembled again beneath her feet. "What's going on?" she murmured.

Brad looked up at her, his face a mask of stone. "My educated guess would be a slight microearthquake coupled by a fractured pipeline and a compromised transformer." He shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes darkened. "These things tend to happen from time to time."

Maura shook her head, registering the line of squad cars as they came to a stop halfway down the drive, the sudden silence overwhelming as Brad's explanation settled within her. Turning back to the warehouse, she took a subtle step forward, as if being pulled by a magnetic shift. She saw the explosion before she heard it, the sound traveling slower than the horrific image itself. As shards of glass and debris shot towards them, she was rocked backwards, the gun falling somewhere along the grass. Her ears rang as she tried to right herself, the world moving in disorienting slow motion as she heard voices cry out behind her. But only one thought riccoched through her brain as she clambered to her feet.

"Jane!" she screamed, the pain in her leg muffled by a fleeting sense of vertigo, but she kept lurching forward. She was barefoot, unsure of when she had slipped her shoes off, but conscious of the sharp gravel digging into the soles of her feet. Barely registering the sound of someone yelling her name, she ignored the howling pain in her leg as she limped faster toward the billowing smoke, heading for the door through which Jane had disappeared. The front side of the building was still partially intact, but the back of it had been blown clear through, leaving a gaping, jagged hole. Maura's lungs clogged as she choked on the dust that clouded her vision, and she coughed violently, her lungs feeling as if they were being pricked by small, minute spikes. "Jane!" she yelled, her voice thick in her throat.

The building felt as if it were alive and groaning, and Maura knew its structure could only hold for so long. "Jane," she called again, pressing forward, her eye catching a smoldering fire at the back of the building. She lowered herself onto her knees, relieving some of the pressure in her leg as she crawled forward. A grating sounded from behind her, and she lurched forward as a column crumbled sideways, blocking the door.

She heard a hacked cough, followed by the groan of her name, and she moved forward, her knees crunching broken glass beneath her. "Jane," she murmured as she caught sight of her a few yards ahead, her hair an ashen gray as it splayed behind her. Her upper left side was covered by a slab of steel and her forehead was bloody, but otherwise she was alert. Maura was able to move several pieces of small debris carefully from her legs, but the heavy piece on her side was immovable. She grunted with effort, her leg not helping her efforts much, and let out a frustrated cry as it didn't budge.

Jane found her voice, but it sounded far away to her, muffled by the ringing in her ears. "Maura, get out of here," she said, coughing. She heard the wrenching sounds of collapsing beams, the structure of the warehouse no longer able to withstand such force.

Maura heaved against the slab, her voice strained. "No," she uttered, her eyes raking over the debris that lay on top of her. "We can get you out of here."

Jane reached for her, touching her arm, at the very least grateful for the opportunity to do so again. "I don't know where anyone else is," she said. "Moore and Ted were in here, but there could have been more."

"I don't care about anyone else," Maura replied gravely, grunting again as she tried to lift the heavy piece of steel, tears welling from both the frustration and the dust. Jane winced at the slight shift, and let out a shaky exhale as its weight went full on her once again.

It was the crunch of footsteps that made her eyes widen, and she craned her head as much as her prone position would allow. She recognized Moore's tall, slim frame, which was all she had to go on, as the figure looming toward them was covered in an mix of dust, ash, and blood. Something shiny glinted in his hand, but Jane didn't give herself time to recognize the bar of steel for what it was, before she shouted a warning. "Maura, behind you!"

Maura instinctively turned, ducking as the bar swung at her. Fumbling on the ground, her fingers scraping over jagged metal, she felt something give, and she brandished a flat piece of metal, one end broken into a sharp point. As he came towards her again, she lunged forward and swiped at a deep wound on his thigh. He doubled over, and she used the opportunity to swing the metal slab against his head. He landed on his side, disturbing a fresh wave of dust, and lay unmoving as Maura clawed her way back to Jane.

"Jesus, I take back everything I said before about your batting stance," Jane remarked. Behind her, another loud wrenching sound echoed through the warehouse as the far wall arched in on itself. A piece of the upper floor groaned, wrenching downwards with a loud whine as it crashed down somewhere out of sight, floating dust and debris towards them. Jane looked up as Maura tried again to lift the steel off of her. "Listen to me, Maura, you have to get out of here," she said, hoping to keep her hysteria at bay. "This building isn't going to hold very long."

"I'm not leaving you," Maura vowed, her eyes looking around her for some sort of lever to use. She needed to use all of her weight if she was going to make the piece of steel budge.

"Maura!" Jane cried, her voice raw, and she reached for Maura's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Maura, listen to me, please," she pleaded, talking over the lump in her throat that was threatening to cut off her voice completely. "I need to know you're safe. Please get out of here. Do it for me, okay?"

Maura shook her head, fully aware that Jane's panic had more to do with her life than with the detective's own. "I'm not going anywhere." She glanced helplessly at the pile on top of her left half, rubbing an ashen hand across her forehead. "I just need a hinge of some sort," she muttered.

Jane shook her head, not wanting to let go of Maura's hand, but the blonde looked down at her, nodding with an earnestness all too recognizable. "I'm going to get you out of here."

She glanced down at the piece of metal she had picked used on Moore, limping over to it and wedging it between the ground and the large slab of steel that lay over Jane. "I'm going to try and counter the weight," she said. "If I lift it, can you roll out?"

"I can try," Jane replied as the landing directly above them gave an unpromising croak. "How much do you weigh again?" she asked nervously. If that landing came down, both of them would be trapped.

Maura didn't reply, instead glancing down at the piece that she had fitted just underneath the steel slab. "On the count of three?"

A piece of the upper floor fell somewhere behind Jane's head, and she shook her head sporadically, her eyes widening. "How about on the count of now?" she countered.

Maura nodded, her eyes flitting frighteninly up at the loft over them. Leaning onto the wedge, she heaved her weight onto it, managing to lift it only an inch or so. "Go!" she groaned, her leg screaming at her.

Jane wiggled her arm, ignoring the sound of crunching bone as she jerked it out with a halting cry, not caring that it hung limply at her side or that the entire left side of her body was searing with pain. Maura crashed back down, the slab falling back into place, disturbing a pool of settled ash. Jane let out a wrangled cry, attempting to get to her knees, but her vision blurred briefly, forcing her back against the ground.

"We have to get out of here," Maura panted, cringing as she pushed herself to her feet.

"Thank you, Dr. Obvious," Jane wheezed, taking in the destruction around her as she rose slowly to her feet, grimacing as her arm hung limply by her side. She could no longer see the front door, which had been blocked with part of the upper floor. Moore was still on the ground in front of them, but Ted was nowhere in sight. Another piece of steel plummeted toward the floor in front of them, and Jane used her good hand to guide Maura toward the back of the structure, which was now a pile of smoking, unsturdy rubble.

"Can you climb?" she asked Maura, taking in her bandaged leg, which was now covered with a new amalgamation of dirt and blood, the bandage slipping off her.

"I can climb trees," Maura answered, gritting her teeth as she managed to mount it. "I've never climbed debris."

"Trying new things is good for you," Jane returned, clenching her teeth as she helped Maura up with her good arm. They scaled the pile as quickly as their injured limbs would let them, the edged steel scraping their arms, elbows, and whatever exposed skin it could before they finally felt the scorched grass beneath them. They made their way over the scattered debris, each grunting in their own private pain. Maura collapsed, heaving, her leg finally giving out, and Jane came to a stop beside her, clutching her stomach as she coughed. They watched as the warehouse gave a last moaning screech, its parts scraping against one another like a million fingernails across a chalkboard, collapsing almost in slow motion, the dust wafting over the field, covering them.

"Maura! Jane!"

Jane's eyes narrowed, confusion curling her lips. "Is that my mother?" she asked, disbelievingly, squinting into the dusty air. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Maura! Jane!"

This time Maura squinted discerningly. "I forgot to tell you. They're here to rescue us."

Frankie made it to them first, plummeting to his knees as he scanned their injuries. Angela was on them in a second, her face flushed with the effort of running, her expression still a mask of worry. "Are you girls okay?" she asked, her eyes fluttering over both of them in an attempt to absorb anything not right with their bodies. She knelt over Jane, her hands hovering over her as if afraid to touch her. "Janey, talk to me."

"Yes, Ma, I'm fine," Jane cringed, sweat beading across her ashen forehead. "I just feel like my entire body is a little broken, that's all." She gave Frankie a beleaguered grin. "You couldn't have gotten here just five minutes sooner?"

"Where's Moore?" he asked, glancing behind them at the smoldering building.

"Two guesses," Jane replied, pain thinning her voice to a low murmur.

"Where does it hurt?" Angela asked, reaching out to her.

"No!" Jane exclaimed, her voice hoarse with the effort as smoke and dust clogged her throat. Her side was throbbing, so much so that she doubted an extra touch from her mother would even matter, but she didn't need to try and up the pain quotient. "Don't touch, Ma."

Maura crawled over to her, slipping her blazer off her shoulders. "I think you broke your clavicle," she said, punctuating her words with a cough. "I can use this to make a sling. We've probably already jostled the acromion, but it will at least prevent any further grating." She fumbled with the fabric, her hands shaking so much so that her efforts were quickly moot.

Frankie leaned over, gently taking it from her. "Here, I can do it," he offered.

Angela put her arms on Maura's shoulders, helping her fully onto the ground and gently extending her leg along the grass. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked, her eyeing the loosened, bloody bandage. "I think you may have popped most of your stitches."

Maura's eyes stayed locked onto Jane, monitoring Frankie's progress as he wrapped the blazer delicately over her injured arm. "I think her wrist may be sprained," she said worriedly.

"Thanks to you, she'll be fine," Angela replied, studying the blonde's creased forehead, worry permeating through her in a thin sheen of sweat. Behind that worry was an insatiably strong love, which Angela had noticed intermittently over the course of the girls' friendship, but never as unbridled and exposed as it was now. She extended an arm and pulled Maura into her, placing her lips on the crown of her head. "I'm so glad you're okay," she breathed.

Jane raised her head, attempting to right her body, but her shoulder screamed at her, overpowering her desire to see Maura, and to feel her in her own arms. As if sensing the need, Maura pulled away from Angela, scooting over to Jane and placing a calming hand on her side. "You're not missing anything," she said lightly. "Just stay there until we get a stretcher out here."

Jane nodded, her eyes closing briefly as she swallowed. "I'm going out on a limb here, and saying that I'm completely against fracking."

"Personal experience is known to be number one influencer of political decision-making," Maura offered, still slightly dazed.

"My shoulder hurts," Jane pointed out needlessly.

Maura frowned down at her, moving a piece of dark hair away from her forehead. "I know. You're going to be on the mend with me for a few weeks, it looks like."

Jane shook her head, tears springing against her eyes. "I'm so glad my shoulder hurts," she laughed, cringing with the effort. Things could have gone much worse, and even the of tormenting pain was a reminder of how lucky they both had been.

Maura leaned over her, a tacit, immense recognition passing between them, and she delivered a quick kiss to Jane's forehead. She began to straighten, but thought better of it, instead leaning forward again and this time pressing her mouth against Jane's lips. It was an echo of their earlier kiss, but this time it was born out of gratefulness rather than fear.

"Where's Brad?" Jane asked, her face morphing into a new, unbridled anger.

"Cuffed, in the backseat of a squad car," Frankie answered. "We'll book him in Boston."

"Not if I don't kill him first."

"If your shoulder wasn't busted, you could do the honors and ride back with ride him," her brother pointed out.

Jane shook her head, glancing over at Maura. "Nah. I've spent too much time in a car with him today. Just get me the hell out of this part of Massachusetts." She took Maura's hand, pressing it to her lips and holding it there. Maura caved next to her, another cough racking her chest, but their hands stayed intertwined, not letting go.

* * *

**This ship hasn't sailed yet. More still to come!**

**In the meantime, thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing this chapter (see what I did there?).**

**Thanks Cat and Ren for the read-through :)**


	11. Return

**Chapter Eleven**

"Dr. Isles, if you didn't like my stitches, you should have just said something." The physician assistant that was bent over Maura's leg glanced warmly up at her as she set to work, repairing the stitches that she had made only several days earlier.

Maura watched her, craving some sort of distraction after having refused anything other than a regional anesthetic. Until she heard an update on Jane's condition, she was bent on preserving some level of mental clarity, despite the pain that was slowly effusing into the rest of her body. Her worry, which had been cloying at her since she and Jane were separated, was brewing into a tempestuous storm, acting as more of a barrier to lucidity than a double dose of morphine ever could. "Your near-near-far-far stitch is quite exceptional," she commended half-heartedly as her eyes followed the woman's neat stitching and steady hand.

Maura looked up at Frankie, who stood next to the gurney, his hands crossed over his uniformed chest and a nauseated look on his face as he stared down at her mangled leg. She raised a heavy hand to his forearm, startling him out of his emetic daze. "Frankie, do you mind going to check with your mom and see if she's heard anything?" Judging by the paleness of his face, he looked as if he could use a break from watching her procedure; otherwise, he would soon be lying on a bed next to her.

Frankie nodded, his stomach turning. It was one thing to stare down at gore when the body attached to it couldn't feel pain; it was another to watch a living, breathing human experience her leg being stitched up like it was industrial-strength Teflon. Maura didn't seem to mind, and had been watching the process with a clinical, detached eye, as if viewing a simple demonstration. As the needle went back into her skin, Frankie pressed a closed fist over his mouth, turning away. He was met immediately with a pair of dark, but amused eyes.

"I just came to check on Doc," Frost explained, coming to a stop alongside Maura's station. Frankie sidled out of the way, allowing the detective a full look at the organized carnage playing out behind him. Frost gagged, quickly pressing a clamped fist against his mouth, much like Frankie had, and worked to keep his tone professional. "I see she's doing fine," he said, clearing his throat, which sounded as if something had snagged his windpipe.

Frankie merely chuckled at his feigned authority, more than familiar with Frost's unfortunate aversion to the bloodier side of his job. "You sure you don't want to stay with her while I check on Jane?" he heckled.

Frost's eyes flashed at him, and he glanced down once more as the physician assistant pulled the thread taut, perking the swollen, red skin. "Holy shit, it's like she's sewing her whole leg back on."

The woman with the needle looked up at him. "If she'd run any more on this fissured artery, I just _might_ be sewing her whole leg back on," she affirmed with a chuckle.

Maura didn't seem fazed by the macabre possibility, and instead turned quickly to Frost, her eyes burning into him. "Have you heard anything about Jane? Did they take her into surgery?"

"I haven't heard anything," Frost replied, not happy at the thought of letting her down as the hazel eyes fell disappointedly. "But don't worry, Korsak and Ms. Rizzoli are pacing outside, running a groove into the floor. We don't know yet if there's been any internal bleeding. Last we heard they were just doing x-rays."

Maura's eyes narrowed, all too familiar with the sinews and sharp fragments of bone that could easily puncture an artery and transform a simple injury into a life-threatening one. It was that possibility that was solely responsible for aggravating the ball of worry that had now settled into her stomach like a small baring weight. "What's taking so long?" she asked nervously.

Frankie took a step toward her, intentionally diverting his gaze from the lower half of her body, and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure everything's fine, Maura." His words were hollow, though, as he remembered Jane's pale face as she was lifted into the back of the ambulance. His sister wasn't one to show pain, but she had looked downright miserable with agony.

In response, Maura leaned over, smiling politely at the woman working on her leg. "Excuse me, Terry, you're doing a wonderfully thorough job, but do you mind stitching just a bit faster? I'd like to find out how Detective Rizzoli is doing." She glanced up at Frankie with a conspiratorial glance. "Maybe I can get a few more answers."

"Dr. Isles, unless you want some heavier scarring than you're already going to have, I wouldn't rush this," Terry responded lightly. She gave her a sympathetic glance. "But, I do know from one of the residents that the brunette with a broken clavicle, who is currently in OR 3, is going to be just fine. Some damaged tissue due to the fracture, but nothing too serious."

Maura breathed heavily, dropping her head back against the pillow. "Oh, thank god," she said, only realizing the extent of her pent up panic when it whooshed out of her in a long, unsteady sigh.

Frankie glanced down at Terry, giving her a grateful nod. "I'm going to go relay that to Korsak and Ma," he said, placing a hand on Maura's forearm. "Don't go anywhere," he teased, attempting a small effort at levity.

Maura looked earnestly up at him before darting a confused glance at her incapacitated leg. "I won't."

Frost shook his head at Frankie, familiar with the medical examiner's predilection for misconstruing even the most blatant attempts of humor. "Nice try."

As Frankie and Frost walked towards the other end of the hallway, Maura turned her attention back to Terry's progress. She enjoyed the silence, at least for a moment, and finally averted her gaze from her leg, instead focusing on the open space just above the assistant's head. Her leg was numb, but she was beginning to think part of her mind had gone numb as well. The ride to the hospital had been more than painful, and she cringed remembering how Jane's low moans resounded in the small, enclosed space after each jostle or bump in the road. Maura hadn't let go of her hand until they reached the emergency room, when they were wheeled in separate directions, their fingers finally parting. And now she sat waiting, feeling like a mere patient; despite her comfort in the morgue, hospitals unnerved her more than any other place. The wide chasm of potential emotions that drifted through the hallways, from euphoric to downright tragic, left her on edge, exhausted.

"Alright, how about we get you to a more private space so you can relax for a little while?" Terry asked, placing a last piece of gauze on her shin before walking over a wheelchair that rested against the wall. "You won't need to stay overnight, at least not this time."

Maura caught her hand, stilling her. "I just need to go where Jane is going." She peered up at her, almost embarrassed by the neediness in her voice, but something shifted in Terry's gaze, and a different sort of awareness appeared there.

"I understand," she said, gently patting Maura's knee. "We'll get her situated right next to you once she's done, okay? Until then, we'll at least get you connected to an IV. Once this anesthetic wears off you are not going to be a happy camper."

"No," Maura said quickly. "No, can we hold off on the morphine for a little while? I just want to be alert."

Terry nodded slowly, helping her into the wheelchair with a steady hand. "Whatever you say, Dr. Isles." She helped elevate Maura's leg by moving a small lever on the chair, and directed her toward the end of the mostly empty hallway, where she wheeled her into a smaller, more private room.

"Want me to help you?" Terry asked, already lowering the bed, its mechanical hum resounding into the quietness of the room.

"No," Maura declined again, shaking her head and fidgeting with her thumb. "I'll just sit here for awhile if you don't mind." Something uncomfortable flitted in the back of her brain, irrationality that she was unused to, and despite her efforts it, wriggled to the forefront of her consciousness. Until she had her hands on Jane, or saw her again with her own eyes, she wasn't fully ready to believe that they had been so lucky as to make it out of their frightening ordeal. So far, the nightmare was still overpowering reality, at least as far as her instinct was concerned.

Terry nodded down at her, still gazing at her with a curious eye. "A nurse will be here in a little while to help you into bed. If you need anything, the call button's right here." She pointed along the bed at the familiar remote, and Maura nodded.

"Unfortunately, I know exactly where that is," she replied, hoping to effuse her tone with some lightness. It seemed to work, and she was rewarded with a small smile.

"Right," Terry said. "How could I forget, you were just here. You're the only one working towards frequent flier miles here at Mass General." She placed a small clipboard on the outside of the door. "I'll get Detective Rizzoli in here for you as soon as possible," she promised, before disappearing, leaving Maura with an overwhelming silence that was overrun with a new onslaught of anxious mental murmurings.

* * *

Frost clapped his hand on Frankie's back as they walked slowly down the wide, white hallway toward the waiting room, their steps echoing and giving them an official-sounding gait. "You know, you did pretty damn good today," he said.

"Yeah, real good," Frankie replied with a snort. Things may have turned out all right in the end, but he still felt as if his insides were a puddle of nervous, quivering mush. He didn't feel much like a hero.

Frost stopped suddenly, looking at him with a coaching eye. "Look, you can't control some things, Frankie, you know that. And as a Detective, you find that out really quickly on the job. You did the best you could with what you had to go on today."

"I just need a tougher skin, that's all," Frankie said, shrugging.

Frost scoffed. "Nah, that's not it at all," he said with a wave of his hand. "That optimism you have, that trust in people? That's your best defense against a job that will try to break that down at every turn." He affirmed his words with a sharp finger against Frankie's shoulder. "You can't lose that." He didn't wait for a response, and instead gave another clap to his shoulder before making his way down the hallway again.

Frankie felt a quick upshot of uncertain pride, straightening his shoulders and holding them a little higher as he came to a stop before his mother and Korsak, the mush inside him finally beginning to harden into something that resembled strength. "Hey, Ma, I got some news," he began.

Angela's head snapped up at him, missing the cheerfulness of his tone. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Ma, that's the news. They're just patching her up a little more, but no sign of internal bleeding or anything too serious."

Angela threw up her hands in a gesture that was meant to be thankful, but which quickly turned into balled fists of forlorn frustration. "Thank God," she said, before turning toward Frost and Korsak. "I hope this means you'll force her into medical leave for a good six months."

Korsak shrugged, darting a tentative glance at Frankie. "I'll give her all the time she needs," he assured her, more than aware of where Angela's worries stemmed from, especially considering the love he had for his own son. "The Chief will insist on it."

"I'm not talking about all the time _she _needs, I'm talking about all the time _I_ need," Angela clarified, pointing a thumb at her chest. "If it were up to Jane, she'd be back at the precinct tomorrow morning, trailing another bad guy."

Korsak put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slightly awkward pat. "Don't worry, none of us will let Jane set a foot in that building for at least a couple of weeks."

Angela wasn't pleased with the time frame, but she kept quiet, knowing that her battle was futile in front of two seasoned detectives and an aspiring one. "Why couldn't you all have been accountants?" she asked, once again tossing her hands in the air.

"Because then we'd be boring," Frankie joked, finally curling his lips into a smile. He wouldn't be fully relieved until he saw Jane in recovery, but he was starting to feel like himself again. If his mother was nagging, she was in a healthier state of mind as well, and that only served to further settle him.

"How's Maura?" Angela asked, turning fully to look at him.

"The woman's got a stomach of steel," Frost offered, cringing at the memory of the wounds on her leg. "She's fine."

Angela recalled the look of panicked worry in Maura's eyes as she had hovered over Jane outside of the warehouse, and a sudden horror dawned on her. She reached up, smacking the back of Frankie's head. "You just left her all by herself? Where is she?"

Frankie cinched away from her, frowning. "Sometimes I think she likes to be alone," he said defensively. "She's down the hallway there." He pointed, taking a step back from her and hoping to avoid another maternal knock to his scull.

"Well, I'm going to sit with her for a few minutes. If you hear anything while I'm gone – "

"Don't worry, Ma, we'll let you know."

"Poor Maura," she said, shaking her head. "Risks her life for Jane, and we leave her to get stitched up by herself."

"With all due respect, Ms. Rizzoli," Frost cut in, grimacing, "Dr. Isles was the only one of us that could handle watching it."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Men," she muttered, turning and making her way down the hallway, eager to offer someone a comforting arm, even if Maura wasn't the type to particularly request it.

* * *

Between Angela, Frankie, and her whole makeshift family, there had been worried birds buzzing around Maura ever since they'd arrived at the hospital. Now that she was alone, sitting in a small, private room, with only her anxiety and her pain to keep her alert, she half wished she would have taken Terry up on the dose of morphine. A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," she called softly.

Angela's head poked into the room, but she didn't barge inside, a politeness that Maura wasn't used to from her. It had taken some time to acclimate to Angela's ubiquitous presence, but after awhile she had simply come to crave it, placing much more value on it than Jane ever had. There were still times, however, when she craved the insulation of her own thoughts, especially when she was attempting to sort through a whole myriad of emotions. "How you feeling?" Angela asked, her eyes swollen with distress.

Maura waved her in. "Is Jane out?"

Angela shook her head, her own disappointment mirrored in Maura's frown. "Not yet." She directed her attention to Maura's leg, which was newly bandaged, matching her newly washed face, which was now clean from ash, grime, and sweat. "You look nice and cleaned up," she appraised, taking a seat in a straight-backed check chair and pulling it closer.

Maura glanced down at her leg, as if it was its own detached compartment on her body. "Hopefully I didn't put too much pressure on the post-tibial ligament," she said. "I won't know until a couple of days from now if it's healing properly." She shrugged off the uncertainty; at this point, she was simply content to be alive. The only complications she had even thought twice about were those resulting from a broken clavicle.

"Can I get you anything?" Angela asked, looking around the bare trappings of the semi-private room, where two hospital beds sat divided only by a small, yellow curtain. "Water or juice? I found the visitor's station, with all the free juice boxes."

Maura politely declined. "No, thank you, Angela, I'm fine." Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, and she appeared as if she was about to say something, but decided against it. Finally, she offered it up, if only to fill the quiet of the room. "My nerves are shot." She thought for a moment, shaking her head. "That expression means nothing. I'm resorting to summarizing my psychological state with trite clichés."

Angela smiled at her. "Well, I think it's perfectly fitting," she confirmed. "My nerves have been shot, frayed, wrung out and hung up to dry."

Maura raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Good use of metaphor."

Angela shrugged, leaning back in her chair and pressing a hand to her temple. "God, I'm too old for this."

Maura shook her head, misunderstanding her intention. "One's never too old for metaphor."

Angela paused, but grinned at her sincerity, however misaligned. "That was just another trite cliché," she corrected.

Maura nodded, her lips parting with the sudden awareness. "Right," she confirmed.

"I spoke with your mother," Angela offered, dropping her hand back in her lap. "She was worried."

Maura's jaw hardened as she looked up at her. "You called my mother?" she asked, aware that her tone edged on accusatory. She worked to clear her throat, modifying her voice. "I just don't want her needlessly worrying, not when she's trying to recover."

Angela looked at her with something that verged on disappointment. "Your mother called _me_," she corrected warmly, hoping the revelation would melt some of the coldness that permeated Maura whenever she spoke of her parents. "After she couldn't get a hold of you. I told her what happened, but explained that you were going to be absolutely fine." She stared thoughtfully at Maura. "She told me your father had finally made it to the States. I offered the guest house to them, but they said they were staying at their suite at the Ritz...?" She trailed off, unsure as to the semantics of the wealthy.

The information was surprising, but Maura knew her father had been attempting to get back into the country for the past week. He hadn't called to let her know he had arrived, but then, she hadn't had a consistent phone in a week, either. "My mother will be more comfortable there," she said with a firm, but unconvincing nod. "There was no need to worry them. I'm fine." She nodded, as if convincing herself. "I'm perfectly fine."

Angela leaned slightly forward, observing Maura as she waited for her to meet her eyes. The medical examiner was smaller than Jane, and softer, but she could be just as strong and persistent as her own daughter when she wanted to, especially when it came to Constance. It was as if she didn't want the world to see how very alone she felt at times. "Let me tell you something," she offered. "A mother is always worried on some level. There's never a passing moment when worry doesn't flutter through your mind at the thought of your child, whether it be worry that she's not eating correctly, or worry that she didn't make it to work on time." She shrugged. "We worry."

Maura smiled sadly at her. "I wouldn't know," she said quietly.

"Well, know that _I_ worry about you," Angela said with a pat on her thigh.

"I just don't need to upset her," Maura replied calmly, reverting back to the polite tone she used when discussing her parents. "Or my father. He's probably upset enough as it is. The last thing they need is to worry about me."

"They're your parents," Angela blurted.

Maura shook her head, as if denying the fact, but Angela saw right through the gesture. "Maura, when I thought something bad had happened to you and Jane, my heart ceased to exist. I know that may not jive with your medical jargon, but I'm here to tell you my heart didn't beat again until I knew the two of you were okay. And you may not believe this, but your mother would have reacted the same way." She cocked her head. "Maybe a little more dignified." She grinned, giving Maura's leg a comforting squeeze. "We all have our ways."

"I like your ways better," Maura confessed, giving her a quick, fleeting smile.

Angela nodded, satisfied. "Maybe you could tell that to Jane, Frankie, and Tommy at least once a day?" she teased.

Before Maura could proffer her agreement, she heard the click of the door and the squeak of a gurney. Jane's wild hair splayed across the starched white pillow and Maura's eyes lit up as she was wheeled in, the orderlies shifting her onto the hospital bed with a quick ease. Jane's eyes were closed, resting peacefully, her shoulder in a deceptively complex, and quite uncomfortable-looking sling.

One of the men glanced up at Angela, who had already made her way to Jane's side. "She'll be in and out for the next fifteen minutes or so. We'll have a nurse come in and give you the full rundown in a few minutes." He waited for Angela's confirmatory nod before turning and leaving them alone again,

Maura wheeled herself over to the edge of the bed, already assessing Jane's sling and any underlying bandages with a discerning eye. "It looks as if it's just a simple orthotic and shoulder sling, which is good," she explained, looking up at Angela. "I may request that they fit her with a figure-of-eight sling instead, at least for the first couple of weeks. Studies show that it helps retain the shoulder in its upright position, perpendicular to the humerus, which aids in adequate bone aggrandizement."

"Whose talking Google is that?" Jane slurred, prompting Maura to direct a smile her way. She raised herself out of her chair, balancing on her good leg as she leaned over, getting a better look at her.

"Hi, Jane."

The dark eyes were still closed, Jane's lips pursing as if she was just on the verge of waking up from a good dream. She moaned slightly, attempting to shift in her bed, but the sudden jolt of pain in her shoulder made her stop, cringing as her eyelids fluttered. "Did I pitch a no-hitter?" she murmured.

Maura's eyebrows knitted in confusion before she understood the athletic jargon, and she shook her head slightly, unable to offer a lie, even to a half-conscious person. "No, sweetheart, you're in Western Mass General. You broke your clavicle."

"And I still let someone get a hit?" Jane asked, drowsily. "After all that?"

Rather than respond, Maura simply bent down and kissed her forehead. Jane's eyes flickered open briefly, catching her eyes. "Hello," she said breezily, unaware of the pain her body was in, thanks to the onslaught of pain medication running through her veins. Her eyes danced underneath her half-closed lids, but closed again with the effort of trying to focus.

Angela combed a few errant curls off her daughter's forehead, happy to see her eyes open, as inexpressive as they were in their current state. "Hey there, Janey," she sang softly. "You did really good in there. As usual, you're the bravest girl in the family."

"So I did pitch a no-hitter?"

"You sure did," Angela replied with a smile, prompting Maura to frown slightly at the misguidance, but the older woman simply shrugged it off with a grin. "Just take it easy for right now, and rest it off, okay? Maura and I are here with you, and Frankie, Frost, and Korsak are outside."

"Maura got a home run," Jane muttered, her head falling slowly to the side.

"I did?" Maura asked, suddenly brightening, a smile lighting up her face as she got lost in whatever foggy fantasy was permeating Jane's brain.

"There's no crying in baseball..."

Maura glanced up at Angela, slightly confused, and tacitly requesting some sort of guidance.

"This always happens when she's hazy," Angela explained. "She starts quoting from 'A League of Their Own'. After she got her wisdom teeth pulled, she almost made it through the first half of it verbatim."

"Oh," Maura nodded. "I didn't realize her love for baseball went quite that deep." She kept her fingers running along the bare skin of Jane's right arm, which lay limply by her side. Her own leg was quickly becoming fatigued, but she couldn't resist leaning down and pressing another kiss against her temple before settling back into the wheelchair.

"You smell good..." Jane muttered, her head lolling to the opposite side, as if following Maura's scent.

"I smell like ash and anesthetic," she returned, leaning forward towards the bed, but the words still sent a flicker of warmth inside her, continuously melting the iceberg of worry in her stomach. Medicated Jane was surprisingly complimentary.

"You're Maura."

"Yes," she replied matter-of-factly, darting a quick glance at Angela. "Maura Dorothea Isles." Angela raised her eyebrows, impressed, but Jane's head veered sloppily towards her, one unfocused eye popping open.

"Maura Dora," she slurred. "The explorer."

"Shh," Maura said, chuckling as she ran a calming hand over Jane's good shoulder. "Just rest."

"I'm going to update the others," Angela said, patting Jane's hand, as if making sure she would still be there when she returned. "I'll be right back." She slid out of the room quickly, leaving Maura to stare down at her sedated partner.

"I think they gave me whiskey back there," Jane mumbled. "My head hurts."

"You did experience blunt trauma to the head before the explosion, and more than likely during it as well." Maura cringed at her explanation, fully aware that it was probably less than comforting, and instead sat back in her chair, keeping hold of Jane's hand.

"You didn't leave," Jane whispered, her eyes opening briefly, before closing again. "That warehouse. I wanted you to leave, and you didn't listen to me."

Maura swallowed, not keen on recalling such a visceral memory so soon. "I would imagine there is some devotionary couples rule 'never to leave a girlfriend behind'." She sighed heavily. "I just simply couldn't leave you, Jane."

"Why?"

"Because I believe in us too much."

The explanation seemed to be enough, as Jane's eyes slipped shut once again, this time staying closed for a few minutes as exhaustion overtook her. Maura continued to sit with her, content with just her presence. Angela returned after a few moments, and Maura watching dutifully as Frankie, Korsak, and Frost rotated in and out of the room until the remnants of the pain medication began to wear off and Jane's brown eyes became more lucid.

As the light came fully back to her, Jane squinted them shut, waiting for her vision to clear. Her mother was standing at the door, talking, or more likely, nagging, a nurse. Frankie and Frost stood against a far wall, heads together, probably discussing something that involved an animated cartoon. Korsak was on the phone, employing a tone he only reserved for his Chief. Despite the pain in her shoulder, she was at least grateful to see them.

Maura sat next to her, looking slightly dazed and more than a little exhausted, but her hands still absently stroked Jane's arm, keeping up a running rhythm. "Hey," Jane said, lifting her hand and grabbing Maura's, giving it a reassuring squeeze, as if to make sure she really was sitting dutifully next to her. "God, I'm glad to see you."

"Hi," Maura returned quietly, lifting herself from her chair once again, bending over and giving Jane a light kiss on the lips before letting her hands lightly trace her jaw. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone took a swing at my shoulder with a baseball bat," Jane replied with a grimace, but looked curiously up at Maura's expression, which had morphed into a perceptive stare. "What?" she asked, afraid she was missing some inside joke, and hoping that it didn't have to do with anything she'd uttered while under the influence of morphine.

"Baseball really does permeate your subconscious mind, doesn't it?" Maura asked, gazing at her with an evaluative eye.

"I'm afraid it does, yes," Jane replied seriously, but ended up grinning, shrugging just her good shoulder. "Hope that's okay."

"Anything is okay as long as _you're_ okay," Maura said, giving her hand another squeeze.

Jane directed her glance down at Maura's chair, shifting in her bed and lightly lifting her arm to guide the blonde back to it. "Nice wheels," she observed. "Is that more fun than you're crutches?"

Maura grinned as she settled into it. "It's more comfortable, that's for sure."

"Welcome back, partner," Frost said, kicking his leg off the wall and walking the few steps over to them. "That sling you got there is kind of badass."

Frankie nodded, joining him. "Sure is," he agreed. "You look like a half-transformed Megatron."

"Korsak talking to Cavanaugh?" Jane asked, her eyes already twitching as her brain kicked back into gear. "I'm guessing you guys will need statements soon. After all, we still have enough to put Brad away, even if Ted and Moore didn't make it out of the building." She glanced back at them. "Right? They didn't make it out?"

"No one made it out, except for the two of you," Frost replied stoically, quieting his voice as Angela walked back into the room.

"Uh-uh," Angela corrected, already more than familiar with the route their conversation was taking. "There will be no statements right now. Not until tomorrow, at least."

"Well, I for one can't wait to hear Maura's statement and how she ended up pointing a glock down at that perp." Frankie clapped Maura on the shoulder, the second such gesture she had received that week, and again she gave him an enthusiastic smile.

"What?" Jane asked, turning as much as she could to look over at Maura, surprise etching itself into her forehead. "You did what?"

Maura looked up at her, pleased as she dropped her hands excitedly into her lap, her anxiety for the moment melting away into a remembered adrenaline. "I was on my way into the warehouse to save you."

Jane shook her head slightly, confused. "I was on my way _out _of the warehouse to save _you_."

"No," Maura returned. "I was definitely going to save you."

Jane nodded, tossing her good hand in the air. "Well, you kind of did, so I can't really argue with that one. But, how did you get the gun? And what the hell did you do with it?"

Maura thought for a brief moment, unsure of how best to explain her maneuver and wishing she had something more action-oriented to offer them. "I took advantage of his psychological inadequacies."

Jane grinned, her lips parting questioningly. "What, you telepathically asked him to give you the gun?"

Maura smiled. "No, I told him that the berries he was about to eat were poisonous and then kneed him in the inguinal canal." She glanced up at Frost and Frankie, who cringed automatically, despite her usage of formal jargon.

Jane chuckled, giving her more than impressed nod. "Alright, Huckleberry Finn," she said, once again completely floored by the woman in front of her. "I'm speechless. You can certainly take care of yourself."

Before Maura could respond, a light knock sounded at the door, and a familiar face poked her head inside the room. She clenched her lips at the two of them before walking fully inside, pulling on a pair of gloves with a determined shake of her head. "If you ask me, the two of you need to consider a new line of work," she said. "But no one asks me."

Jane grinned, tossing a glance at Maura. "Hi, Rhonda. Long time, no see."

"What in sam hill are you all doing here again?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"We just loved the facilities here," Jane said with a flourish of her hand. "The sterility is quite meditative. As is the morphine."

Maura laughed, turning to grace their old nurse with a more formal greeting. "Hi Rhonda, how are you?"

"Doing better than you two are," she replied. Glancing at the group of people surrounding her, she spoke louder. "Listen, folks, I hate to kick you all out, but I'm going to have to kick you all out." She ushered them towards the door, but pointed at commanding finger at Maura. "You stay. We're going to get you back in this bed and elevate your leg for a little while. They told me you already firecrackered out of those last stitches."

"You know, Maura, little firecracker," Jane murmured, looking pleasantly over at the blonde with a small chuckle. She gave Frankie and Frost a fist bump, prompting Maura to reach up and repeat the movement with a jerky, but enthusiastic move of her arm. Korsak walked over to her, finally slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"No work for awhile, Jane, I mean it this time," he said, glancing quickly at Angela and giving her a warm smile. "At least two weeks," he called as he ducked out of the door, chuckling to himself.

Angela glared towards the door. "Two months!" she corrected, before turning back to Jane and placing a kiss on her forehead. Jane grimaced, but didn't pull away. "At least with that sling on, it's harder for you to pull away," Angela observed with a pleased smile. "We'll be right outside." She gave Rhonda a friendly nod as she closed the door behind her.

Rhonda rounded Jane's side of the bed, turning a familiar gaze to the IV beside her bed. "How's your pain level, Detective?"

Maura raised a polite finger. "Whatever she says, you should adjust for the Rizzoli Supplicatory Pain Modifier," she explained. "If she says the pain is a seven, for a normal specimen that would actually be a ten."

"Got it," Rhonda said, nodding and jerking her thumb towards Jane. "No soft spot for this one, I see." She tossed a look behind her, raising a knowing eyebrow. "Except for when it comes to you, Dr. Quinn." Catching Maura's blush, she preempted Jane's response with a knowing wave of her hand. "I know, I know," she said, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the hospital bed. "She isn't your girlfriend."

Jane felt Maura's eyes on her, and she smiled widely, looking back at Rhonda with a slight glint in her eye. "Actually," she replied, tossing a smile Maura's way. "She is." As she let the words sink in, she felt them fill a final place in her heart that she had reserved for Maura since the first day they met.

* * *

**I still don't think we're done here. This meandering one-shot needs a couple more chapters, no? Let me hear from you :)**

**Cat and Ren, thanks for the guidance and read-through!**


	12. Home Again

**Chapter Twelve**

The medication coursing through Jane's veins had managed to curb the pain in her shoulder to a dull, pulsing ache, but it did little to silence the constant buzz in her brain, as if leftover adrenaline had yet to seep its way out of her body. She wanted to be alert, on guard, even as her eyelids drooped with exhaustion. Sleeping in an actual bed at West Massachusetts General had been only a tad more comfortable than sleeping on one of its industrial couches, its mattress soft and droopy in all the wrong places. Her thwarted sleep had resulted in her being more than a little grumpy with Rhonda that morning, and it was only Maura's calming hand on her own that kept a polite smile on her face as her discharge papers finally came through.

Now she followed Maura toward the elevator, both of them in matching sets of scrubs that Rhonda had salvaged for them, tossing their ruined, ash-strewn clothes in the hospital garbage bin. Even Maura hadn't put up a fight as her couture saw its way into the trash, which meant she was either eager to get home or eager to dispose of any reminders of their nightmare. Jane imagined it was a little of both.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record," she said, hugging her arm to her waist, trying to allow it to hang limply in her newly fitted sling, "I am so ready to be going home."

Maura glanced back at her, a corrective twitch in her eye. "Technically, that would be more like a scratched record," she remarked. "You're repeating yourself."

"Maur, that expression has withstood the test of time," Jane said with a grin. "Even you can't change it."

"If you feel like a scratched record," Maura began, emphasizing her point once again, "I bet Tommy feels like a rail conductor. He's been repeating the route to this hospital probably more than he'd like."

"Rail conductor?" Jane scoffed, shaking her head at the failed analogy. "It's the least he can do. Frankie's working, Ma's a nervous wreck."

"It's still nice of him."

Jane heard Rhonda's unmistakable padded footsteps, her sneakers squelching along the tiled hallway. "Detective, I got you an extra sling," she said, handing it over, darting a colluding eye around her. "Don't you tell anyone you got it from me."

"Why, is it contraband?" Jane asked, grinning as she raised a stealthy eyebrow, but her teasing pulled a small smile only from Maura.

"Might as well be," the large nurse deadpanned.

"Thank you, Rhonda, I'm sure that will come in handy," Maura said politely, punching the elevator button with the tip of her crutch. The move put a smile on her lips, prompting an eye roll from Jane, which only made her smile that much wider.

Rhonda leaned back, crossing her arms over her healthy chest, and gauged them with a discerning look. "You two make quite a pair, if you ask me," she said, eyeing their injuries, a sort of yin and yang of broken limbs. "But - " Before she could finish off her usual declaration, Maura leaned into her with a curious, questioning eye.

"Do you really think we make a good pair?" she asked, darting a satisfied glance between her and Jane.

Rhonda's lips parted, her tone slightly suspicious. "You asking me?"

Maura nodded earnestly. "Yes."

Jane laughed, raising two eyebrows at Rhonda as the nurse grinned, baring a row of low, white teeth. Rather than answer, she simply turned, giving them a wave behind her head. "You two take care now."

Maura watched her go, confusion flickering across her forehead. "Does she not think we make a good pair?" she asked as the elevator door dinged.

Jane glanced down at her before rolling her eyes. "Get on the elevator, Maur," she replied, guiding her into the silvery, sterile cavern, a smile plastered across her lips. Maura shook her head one last time before allowing Jane to usher her inside, where she stood for a moment, still contemplating the Rhonda's lackluster response. Jane waited patiently for her to press the elevator button, sighing heavily, until she finally got her attention.

"Oh!" Maura exclaimed, reaching forward and quickly punching the button, settling her crutch back beside her. "Momentary neuron-synapse lapse, sorry."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Jane asked, rocking on the heels of her feet as she waited for the elevator to ding them out into the lobby. She wanted nothing more than to be back in the city, as far away as possible from the hospital that now held such anxiety-fueled memories. As they made their way down to the turnabout, slowly but steadily, she saw Tommy's car idling, her brother leaning against the side of it. He smiled, striding widely towards them and reaching a hand out a steadying.

"Jesus," he said. "Twice in one week. I haven't been to the sticks this much in my entire life."

"Well, you know, I felt a little left out," Jane said with a smirk. "Maura got those cool crutches and all. I had to even the playing field."

Tommy opened up the backseat for Maura, brushing a few errant items into the floorboard. "Your chariot awaits."

Jane rolled her eyes at his corniness, but she felt the smaller woman balk against her, backing slightly into her chest and causing her to cringe lightly at the jostle of her arm. "I don't think I want to take the backseat," Maura said urgently, her voice teetering on the edge of an unseen panic. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to see the backseat of a car again, already feeling the prickling sensation of fear inching up her spine.

Jane quickly placed a calming hand against the small of her back, guiding her to the front instead. "No problem, Maur, you take shotgun," she offered, but grimaced at her choice of words.

"Nicely put," Maura replied, but she attempted a small smile, which helped to calm her own burgeoning nerves.

"Fair warning," Tommy said, glancing down at Maura as he helped her inside the car. "Ma's already at your place."

Jane frowned. "Of course she is. Doesn't she know the last thing we need is her hustling and bustling all over the house?"

"She's been baking all morning," Tommy clarified.

Jane gave a relinquishing nod, changing her tune. "Well, alright, then. That I can handle." She slipped into the back, settling into her seat. "It will also give me a chance to ask her what the hell she was doing at the warehouse. What was Frankie thinking, bringing her there?"

"Go easy on him," Tommy said, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. "He did a hell of a good job, considering… you know… our big sister had disappeared." He glanced down at Maura. "We were all pretty damn worried about both of you." He turned back to Jane. "I haven't seen Ma that unhinged since you broke your arm during that ice skating competition."

Jane caught Maura's piqued attention, and quickly tried to stop her brother. "Yeah, yeah," she said, casually waving her hand. "How about you just drive - "

"Remember, me and Frankie said it was because your skates were the size of water-skis." He chuckled, even after twenty years still more than pleased with his own wit. Jane narrowed an eye at him as Maura stifled a grin.

"How about I put one of these water-skis up your - "

"Jane," Maura chastised, glancing back at her and choosing to distract her with unsolicited trivia. "You should feel no shame whatsoever regarding the size of your feet." She smiled. "You know what they say about women with large feet."

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Jane said tentatively. "And I'm afraid I don't want to know."

"I want to know," Tommy cut in, grinning.

"Their calves always appear smaller," Maura finished, raising an eyebrow at both of them before settling back into her seat, shaking her head.

"Anyway," Jane continued, pressing forward. "Ma can be a tornado at times, I know that better than anyone, but Frankie's going to have to learn to curb his mama's boy impulses." Her mother could be formidable, but her stubbornness could eventually be overcome, at least when it came to the job. It was practically the only time Jane could get her way, when she used work as a justification. She cringed as they hit a small dip in the road, and leaned forward, flicking Tommy on his ear. "Lay off the bumps, Tommy, my arm hurts."

He cringed. "Well, now my ear hurts."

"Just slow down."

"Forgot I was driving Miss Daisy," he tossed back at her.

Jane was half grateful for his banter, but the other half of her was still pissed at him for no particular reason other than he was her brother. "I don't care how long it takes to get home, you hit one more pothole and I will definitely be shoving these water-skis of mine up your - "

"Jane," Maura scolded again, leaning forward and pressing the dial to the radio, hoping to silence the two of them. A loud, blaring bass rattled the speakers around her, startling her, and she grimaced, quickly punching another button. "I'm sure they can pick up NPR around here."

Jane and Tommy both looked at her, their expressions clearly relating the fact that neither of them was particularly fond of the blonde's radio selection. Maura looked up at them both in turn. "Or, maybe the two of you can be civilized and we can manage some adult conversation for the rest of the drive?"

Jane met Tommy's eyes, and the two shrugged, speaking simultaneously. "NPR's fine." Jane leaned back, letting her eyes gaze unfocused out the window, until the small, nameless towns lulled her into a half-meditative state, finally quieting her mind. They eventually making their way to the highway, the trappings of civilization finally calling back to her, almost pricking her nerves as they got closer to Beacon Hill.

Jane bristled as they coursed down Maura's street, recalling the last time she had made this particular journey, and she leaned forward, pressing a hand against the medical examiner's shoulder. It was a move meant to calm her, but on some level it did more to settle Jane's own anxiety. "Ready for the welcome brigade?" she asked lightly, but she felt Maura's muscles tense as they pulled into the driveway.

It appeared as it always had, well landscaped, quiet, and serene, as if no act of violence could have ever punctured its tranquility. Fortunately, neither of them had much time to flash back to the day before, as Angela was already bustling out of the house towards them, an apron wrapped around her, arms flailing in nervous waves. As Tommy helped Maura out of the front seat, Angela rushed to the back, fumbling over Jane's good arm as she tried to assist her. "Ma, Ma!" Jane called, slapping her hands lightly away. "I have two good legs, remember?"

Angela nodded, giving her some space, but her eyes still flickered with concern as she watched Jane amble toward the house, taking a moment to look around her. A few flowers had been trampled, probably by crime techs, but otherwise, everything was back to normal. Either way, Jane made a mental note to have the locks on Maura's door strengthened and a few more security lights installed; the last time she had been so spooked had been the encounter with Hoyt over a year ago.

"Jane!"

For once she was grateful for her mother's voice as it called to her from the house, pulling her out of a deep well of thought in which she didn't want to dive into just yet. She moved cautiously inside, locking the door behind her. Tommy was already helping Maura settle onto the couch, propping her foot on the table, but this time he looked up at Jane, motioning for her to take the cushion next to her. Jane nodded at him, tacitly appreciating the gesture. Maybe Tommy was alright, after all.

Angela scooted over to them, settling herself on the edge of the chair next to the couch, staring at the two of them as if they would disappear at any given moment. "Oh," she said, clapping her hands on her thighs. "Your phones are still in evidence, but Maura, I spoke with your mother again this morning. She and your father are coming by."

Maura's eyes widened. "What?" she asked slowly, a quiet unease flooding her eyes. Jane caught the sudden cloud that flitted across her face, but said nothing.

It couldn't have been the reaction Angela was anticipating, but she continued tentatively. "They've been calling all morning. They just want to make sure you're all right."

Jane glanced from her mother back to Maura, her panic almost palpable, as if seeping out into the rest of the house and instilling it with a sudden coldness. "Maur - " she began, but was cut off by sudden movement.

"This place is a wreck," Maura moaned, reaching for her crutches and pulling herself to her feet. "I can't have them see it like this. I haven't had it professionally cleaned in over a month."

Angela glanced around at the pristine surroundings before looking back at Jane, tacitly requesting some help. "Maura, sweetheart, I don't think they care about the state of your house. Which looks perfect, by the way. I think they're more concerned about you."

Maura absently shook her head, her brain already calculating the myriad invisible balls of dust that littered her shelves, the drapes, the mantle, all the places where a mother as particular as hers would know to look. "No," she said, putting a hand to her temple and changing course toward the kitchen. "I need to prepare something. My father likes Roobis tea, but I don't think I have any." She shrugged off Jane's touch against her waist. "Do I have any camembert?" she muttered, making her way out of the living room.

Jane glanced at Angela, who gave her an apologetic shrug. "I didn't know what else to say," she whispered. "They're her parents, what was I supposed to tell them? Don't come see your daughter?"

Jane put a sympathetic hand on her Angela's knee, unable to offer any harsh words. If anyone was in a position to understand what state Maura's parents were in, it was her mother. "Don't worry, Ma, She just gets a little nervous."

They both turned as a cabinet clattered shut, boxes of tea tumbling onto the counter as Maura frantically tried to control them. "Why do I have so many teas!" she cried, foraging through them.

Jane knew better than to chuckle, although any other time the scene would have been comical. Instead used her mother's knee as leverage to pull up from the couch. "Maur," she soothed as she walked over, reaching over and stacking the boxes of tea back in the cabinet, her height giving her leverage that Maura didn't have. "I'm sure your dad doesn't care what kind of tea we have. I think your nearly mutilated leg will serve as the perfect distraction."

"He's a _tea drinker_," Maura refuted, as if it were a medical condition that required a consistent intake of brewed leaves.

Jane plucked a box of tea from the cabinet, holding it up. "Just give him some of your excrement tea." She waved the box at her mother. "Everyone loves excrement tea."

Angela nodded brightly from the couch. "Ignore her sarcasm. It's very good."

"No," Maura said adamantly. "He's drank Roobis ever since I was a child. It's practically all I can remember about him." She turned, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "I haven't seen him in over two years," she said with a shake of her head, her eyes focusing on the floor. "How can I face him after putting my mother in danger like that?"

Jane shifted, moving a step forward, as she tried to understand Maura's reasoning. "Sweetheart, what are you talking about?" she asked with a confused smile. "Is the aspirin causing your brain waves to short-circuit?"

Maura glanced self-consciously over Jane's shoulder, prompting Tommy and Angela to quickly turn their heads, pretending to analyze the middle-eastern bowl that sat on her coffee table. She lowered her voice. "My mother was almost killed trying to protect me," she said.

"Maura – "

"My father never understood why I wasted my medical degree on such a macabre profession. He's always been critical, and now my job has put all of us in danger more than once in the past month. What is he going to think of me?"

Jane took a step closer to her, shielding her from the prying eyes of her family. However irrational the thought, she was more upset that their petty fight after that night in the firehouse had kept her from helping Maura work through what had clearly been plaguing her for some time. "Listen to me," she said, fully aware that both her mother and her brother were also listening, and she dipped her head lower, deciding for something more distracting than a mere pep talk. "Let's go take a bath," she whispered.

Maura narrowed her eyes, clearly not following her. "What?"

Jane kept her voice intentionally low, angling her head further down. "You and me, let's go take a bath."

Maura cocked her head, squinting her eyes. "I think we need to work on your sense of apropros timing," she said.

Jane smiled, but continued unperturbed, hoping Maura would eventually see her logic. She placed her hand on Maura's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Look, I know things are complicated. But right now, the only thing you need to worry about is getting out of these hospital scrubs and washing the ash out of your hair." As if to emphasize her point, she plucked a tiny piece of gray dust from her hair and tossed it aside before letting her hands cup Maura's softening jaw. "Your parents just want to see that you're okay. There's nothing complicated about that, alright?"

Maura turned her head slightly, pressing her lips into the palm of Jane's hand before offering a slow nod. "Okay," she said, glancing down at the matching scrubs Jane wore. "Let's see what I've got here for you besides running clothes. How do you feel about Cavalli?"

"As long as it's not a dress, we're in business," Jane said with a grin, glad that she could at least pull Maura out of her parental-induced anxiety for a brief moment.

"Oh, Janey, I brought you a few things over from your place," Angela called, picking herself up off the couch. "There's a suitcase in Maura's bedroom for you."

Jane ignored the fact that her mother had chosen to place her suitcase in Maura's bedroom rather than the guestroom, and instead put a hand on her hip as she turned to face her. "And why did you need to bring a suitcase over?" she asked. "I have a whole closet full of things at home."

Angela shook her head. "Uh-uh. Your butt is staying right here, where I can keep an eye on both of you."

Jane frowned, although she couldn't quite complain at the command. She had no desire to be separated from Maura, but she would miss some of the comforts of her own home: her sugary cereals, her chipped coffee mugs. She sighed, glancing down at the woman beside her. "How do you feel about that, Dorthea?"

Maura did a double-take, her eyes widening up at her. "How did you remember that?" she asked. "You were half unconscious when I told you."

"Please, that name is enough to jerk anyone out of unconsciousness. It's like a slap of cold water. 'Dorthea'?"

"It's a lovely name," Angela cut in, giving her an approving nod.

"You're one to talk, Ma," Jane muttered.

"I think Clement - "

"Don't say it," Jane warned, raising a finger. "Alright, I'm getting into something... less comfortable," she said, glancing down at her scrubs and hooking a finger towards Maura. "You coming?"

Maura nodded, following her, but Angela put her hand out to her shoulder, stopping her with a polite, imploring quiver of her lips. "For what it's worth, I've been baking all morning. I'm happy to set some things out for when your parents get here."

Maura stared up at her. At times Angela's generosity still floored her, as unfamiliar as she was with such motherly, selfless gestures. She smiled, leaning up on her good leg and placing a kiss on Angela's cheek, not unlike the cordial gesture she infrequently gave her own mother. "Thank you," she said. "Will you stay?"

Angela returned her smile, nodding and giving her hand a slight squeeze. "Sure thing."

As much as their exchange softened Jane, she still felt a need to clarify Maura's request, if only for her own sanity. "Just until Phillip and Constance _leave_," she said. "Then you can meander back next door to your own _place_." She gave her mom a smile only a daughter could get away with and pointed her finger toward the guesthouse before ushering Maura back to the bedroom.

"You know, we're fortunate." Maura gave one last exertive push on her crutches before sinking down onto the bed. She leaned backwards, the hardness of her mattress feeling nice against the small of her back, where a small pain palpated across it, more than likely from sleeping on the hard couch in the hospital room. "To have your mother around." She felt a dip next to her, and then a hand coursing over her thigh.

"I think we're fortunate in a lot of ways," Jane replied, sighing. She turned her head to look down at Maura, who looked as if she'd stepped out of her own medical lab than a hospital. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Probably about the same as you did when _you_ slept on that awful couch," Maura returned with a slight smile. She groaned slightly. "It's fine. Lower back pain distracts me from lower leg pain."

"I've heard back pain is good for that." Jane laughed as she rose from the bed, clapping Maura's knee. "I'm going to start our bath."

"_Our_ bath?" Maura repeated, raising up with a perplexed fix of her lips. "You don't like baths."

Jane pointed at her sling. "Well, I like them better than sponge baths."

"You can't get your sling wet," Maura protested.

"Thanks to Rhonda's contraband, I can," Jane countered. She gave a sideways glance, her eyes narrowing. "Unless you'd like to experience your bath alone, Dorthea."

Maura shook her head adamantly, her body already moving from its perch on the bed. "Start the water," she instructed, reaching for her crutch.

Jane headed into the bathroom, flipping on the water much like she had that first day when she had played the role of caretaker. She repeated the same motions, adding a plethora of bath salts, until the water began to bubble. The only thing missing was the sense of nervousness that had shaken her hands that first day. As Maura followed her into the bathroom, watching her, Jane felt a strong sense of normalcy, as if they'd been taking baths together for years.

"Come here," Maura said, pulling Jane over to her and unhooking the outer sling she wore. She pulled the loose fitting shirt delicately over the strong shoulders, reversing the same course she'd made at the hospital that morning, being careful as she slipped it over the injured left arm. As her eyes grazed the soft, tan skin of Jane's chest, she brought her closer, pressing a kiss against the top of her breast. Jane was usually all sharp angles and quick movements, but Maura remembered how soft and smooth her skin had felt against her a few nights before, and she let her fingers trace the memory over her taut stomach.

Jane angled Maura's chin up, leaning over and taking her lips, their kiss slow and tentative. Her hands plucked the hem of Maura's shirt upward, and the blonde reached down to help, bringing it up over her head. Jane tugged the drawstring at her waist, and they slipped down Maura's legs, piling into a blue green puddle at her feet.

Maura slipped out of her underwear, and this time she didn't feel nervous as Jane's eyes grazed over her body. "We will never, ever wear matching outfits. Ever again," she emphasized with a smile, as she pushed the scrubs down Jane's long legs and revealing her body once again, letting her fingers trail along the tops of her thighs. She pressed against her, using her body for leverage as she leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper, and more intense than the one before, each of them probing further.

As they pulled apart, Jane worked to regain her breath. "I seem to have forgotten what we're supposed to be doing," she said quietly, looking down at her with a bashful smile.

"A bath."

Jane's eyes darted toward the tub, where the water had finally made it to a comfortable level. "Right," she affirmed, reaching over and shutting it off. "Sorry if this is more suited for a kiddie pool than a bubble bath. I didn't want to fully submerge my arm."

"It is possible for a human to drown in less than two inches of water." She glanced down at the tub. "Of course, the overall surface area of the body of water should be taken into account. I doubt with two of us - "

"I think we've had enough near death experiences lately," Jane said. "Can we not talk about drowning? You're going all 'Final Destination' on me here."

Maura chuckled as she let Jane help her into the tub, situating her leg along the side of it, clear of any bubbles. Jane climbed carefully in behind her, avoiding the bandaged limb, and sat facing her, her long legs wrapping around Maura's compact body. "Wow," she said, secretly pleased that the water was low enough to give her a tantalizing view of Maura's upper body. She made a mental note to keep all of their future bubble baths at this depth.

"I know," Maura gushed, placing her head against the rim and lightly closing her eyes. "Isn't the water great?"

"That too," Jane replied, blushing slightly as Maura peeked one eye open, catching the direction of her gaze.

"Bandaged legs do something for you, Detective?"

"Did I not tell you about that fetish?" Jane asked with a grin, exaggerating the huskiness of her voice and pulling an easy laugh from Maura. She delved as far down into the water as her shoulder allowed, submerging as much of her sooty hair as possible and using one hand to rummage a few bubbles through it. "God, that feels good," she muttered.

"It's like washing off the nightmare," Maura said quietly.

Jane met her eyes, not needing to nod in order to voice her agreement; they both knew the terror that had threatened to uproot the new happiness they had found together. She ran her fingers across Maura's knee, hoping to pull her back from the events of the day before. "Did you even know your dad was back in town?" she asked.

Maura raised her head, shaking it. "I knew he had finally made it to Kenya to fly out, but that was the last I heard."

"What was he doing in Tanzania?"

Maura shrugged, the water shifting slightly around her. "I only know what I read," she answered. "I keep a subscription to _The Anthropological Journal_ just so I can keep up with him. He used to forward me the articles he published, back when I was in medical school." Her voice turned contemplative as she continued, trailing off into a low tone of regret. "But he doesn't anymore."

"Well, I'm sure he thinks his little articles can't compete with the riveting ones in the _Journal of Ballistics and Shell Casing Digest of Science_," she said lightly, waving her hand. "That doesn't mean he isn't proud of you."

"It isn't about them being proud," Maura contested, her eyes darting nervously toward the water, raking a bubble with her thumb. "It's about not being a burden to them."

Jane felt something harden in her, a feeling she recalled during her first meeting with Constance, when the older woman had carelessly shrugged off Maura's desperate invitation to stay for dessert. Despite what had changed between her and her daughter, Jane still held an inkling of blame when it came to the Isles' parenting skills. "Hey, what's that even mean?" she asked softly. "You don't think my brothers and me were burdens to my Ma? Trust me, she would've been happy to have an unburdensome child around for a change."

Maura shook her head, touching Jane's knee with an appreciative gesture. "No, I know. It's just, all of this with Paddy Doyle and my biological mother, I just feel... guilty for putting them through all of this. The last thing I want to do is to complicate their lives any more than I already have. And now all of this…"

"Look, Maura, if you eventually do want to seek out your birth mom, then isn't it all the more important to strengthen the relationship you have with your mother? It sounds like she's opening herself up, and maybe it's worth taking advantage of, despite your past. And who knows, your father may feel the same way."

Maura nodded, but then raised a dripping hand to her forehead. "Ugh, all these questions…"

Jane studied her for a moment, taking in her tired eyes and the purse of her lips. "I got a question for you," she offered.

"What's that?"

"How am I going to wash the rest of my hair?" she asked with a grin, patting the top of her head, which was still brittly dry.

Maura chuckled, shifting as she leaned forward slightly, reaching for the showerhead above her. "That actually may be something I can answer," she replied.

* * *

Angela tossed Tommy a disapproving look as she set another pan of cookies on the counter next to him. "Tommy, you're supposed to be plating, not eating," she reprimanded.

"I can't help it," he replied, his mouth full. "They're too good." He swallowed. "And I can't imagine Maura's folks recognizing the art of a good chocolate chip cookie, anyway."

"Chocolate chip _walnut_," Angela stressed. "As a divorcee, I've become more sophisticated with my baked goods."

"Fancy," Tommy sang with a grin, plucking another cookie for himself. "So good," he said, taking a bite that encompassed most of it.

Angela gave him a warm smile, tussling his hair. "That's so sweet, Tommy." Her lips morphed into a straight line. "But either move it or lose it." He frowned, moving to the other side of the counter as Angela shook her head. "I swear the three of you are like walking garbage disposals."

"Ma, if it's all the same to you, I'm gonna head next door before they get here," Tommy said, raising himself off the counter and brushing his hands across his shirt.

"You don't want to meet Maura's parents?"

He cringed. "Not really."

Angela raised an eyebrow as if to chastise him once again, but her face softened. "I don't blame you," she said, walking toward the refrigerator.

"You don't like 'em?" he asked. "I thought you got along fine with Maura's Ma."

"I do," Angela replied, waving a hand as she sifted several of the small compartments along the door, her eyes scanning across tiny jars of olives and things resembling olives. "They're fine people," she qualified. "Not our kind of people, but fine people."

Tommy grinned. "How can they be so uptight, when Maura's so great?"

Angela looked up at him, weariness in her eyes as she studied her son, more than aware of his feelings for the medical examiner. "You know, Tommy, I'm your mother, and you may think I don't catch on to much - "

He raised a hand quickly to her. "I know, Maura's out of my league," he said.

Angela shook her head slightly, choosing her words carefully. "It's more like she's definitely playing for a different team. "

"I get it, Ma," he said again, this time more firmly. "And I'm happy for her and Jane."

"Well, good," Angela said with a nod, pleased that she didn't have to referee a battle she didn't particularly want to be in the middle of, and she pulled out a wrapped log of cheese from the refrigerator. She sniffed it, cringing. "This must be expensive," she surmised as she moved it toward the plate she had prepared. "I'm happy for Jane, too."

The doorbell rang, and Tommy raised his eyebrows, hurriedly creeping toward the back door. "I'll see you later, Ma!" he called, lurching for the cookie plate once more, but Angela caught the back of his collar.

"You wish," she said. "I'm going to get Maura and Jane, you let them in and be nice."

Tommy grimaced, a cookie stuck half in his mouth as he looked precariously towards the door, gulping once before walking towards it. Angela gave him a last smile, motioning for him to straighten his posture as she headed toward Maura's bedroom. The room was quiet, but a telltale splash of water and the slightly cracked bathroom door let her know where she was most likely to find her girls. She made for it, raising her hand to knock, but it froze in mid-air as she heard Jane's voice.

"Wow, that felt good," Jane gushed, wiping her eyes with one hand before running it through her soaked, and newly washed hair. Maura smiled, pleased, as she tossed the detachable shower head somewhere behind her, letting it clank against the wall. "Let me do you."

Angela's lips parted outside the door, and she leaned closer, a hand over her mouth.

Inside the tub, Maura shook her head. "In due time," she said. "Let's just relax." She let her head dip back against the back rim, and Jane caught the faint semblance of finger-shaped bruises along her neck, leftover signs from that horrific moment in the car. She leaned forward, almost retching, putting her good hand against her head and prompting Maura to lean forward, concerned. "Are you okay?" she asked, reaching for her. "Is your head bothering you?"

Jane shook off the remnants of her nightmare, her hands fidgeting and sloshing the water around the tops of her knees. "I should have protected us," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Maura slid closer to her. "Why would you say that?"

"Every time I thought about making a move, or doing something to get us out of that car, I just became so afraid of… I don't know… of something going wrong. Of losing you. I was more afraid than I think I've ever been."

"That makes two of us," Maura said with a kind smile. The fear in Jane's eyes unnerved her, as the detective so rarely allowed herself to open up to such emotion, but she recognized the distinct trust that came along with it. "You are the most courageous person I know," she continued. "But what saved me most in that car…" she swallowed, pausing a moment before beginning again. "Do you know what saved me yesterday?"

"Knocking that motherfucker's balls off?" Jane tried with an exhausted laugh.

"No," Maura said, chuckling with relief at the humorous attempt. "It was your voice from the front seat, taking me back to a place where I wasn't fearful or weak or powerless. A place where it was just us, where I was strong and brave and… loved."

"That was easy," Jane said lightly, but emotion tightened her voice. "That was one of the best moments I've had in awhile."

Maura reached up, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. "We have many opportunities to top that moment," she said with a smile, leaning over and sweetly taking her lips. Jane breathed into the kiss, as if letting go of any extra fear, and simply let herself feel the two of them together, their slick skin sliding together.

Outside, Angela felt her eyes going moist; rarely had she heard Jane open up like that to anyone, and it shifted something inside her heart to know that the tiny blonde medical examiner had managed to reach her. She quickly wiped a hand under her eyes, taking a step back and clearing her throat in a false warning. "Jane, Maura?" she called.

At the sound of her mother's voice outside the door, Jane lurched back against the tub as Maura let out a small yelp, dodging backwards and dipping her head just underneath the water. "Yeah!" she yelled, hoping to cover her shock, which was quickly bubbling into laughter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Maura's parents are here," Angela called, too briskly and too casually.

"We'll be right out!" Jane responded, her words clipped as she rushed over them. Maura's head popped back above water, and she let her laugh finally explode from her belly in an explosive burst of air. "What are you doing, diving for gold?" she asked.

"I didn't know what else to do!" Maura exclaimed. "I was embarrassed!"

Jane didn't bother holding in another laugh, and tossed a shampoo bottle toward Maura, letting it splash over at her. "Well, do it again, and this time remember to lather."

"No, Jane, there's no time," Maura hissed, wringing her hair out with her hand. "Get out, and help me up."

Jane arched an eyebrow. "Say it nicely."

Maura stared vehemently at her, and Jane was able to hold her stare for only a split second before lifting herself out of the tub and obediently extending a hand to the smaller woman. "Okay, Little Mermaid, let's go." She snuck another glance at Maura's body before handing her over a towel, but took advantage of her perch on the sink, bending down and giving her a quick, confident kiss. "I love you," she said. "Whatever you need from me out there with your parents, I'm ready and willing to do it."

"Will you promise to keep your opinions to yourself?" Maura asked hopefully.

Jane scrunched her lips, avoiding her gaze for a moment. "Well, this should be interesting," she said brightly, with a saccharine smile as she ducked out of the bathroom, still soaking wet.

"You didn't promise!" Maura called. "And don't drip on the carpet!"

"I love you!" Jane repeated, prompting Maura to narrow her eyes in frustration before chuckling softly. Her parents may drive an anxious spike through her mind, but she knew exactly who had her heart, and that gave her all the confidence she needed.

* * *

**Let me know what you think :) Thank you for reading... and reviewing.**


	13. Visit

**Chapter Thirteen**

"How do I look?" Maura asked, her crutches tucked underneath the capped sleeves of a red dress more suited for dinner at her favorite French restaurant than for a night of recovery at home. Jane had spent the past ten minutes seated impatiently on the bed, watching as several dresses had already been tossed precariously out of the closet in favor of one more appropriate.

"You sure you don't want to slip into a pair of four-inch heels, too?" Jane asked, pointing to Maura's small bare feet. "Maybe slide a stiletto over that swollen ankle?"

"Do you think I should?" Maura asked, her eyes widening with the sartorial oversight.

A quick smile slipped from Jane's lips, until she realized the earnestness behind the question. "Jesus, Maur, no," she said, shaking her head. "You look like the beautiful, brilliant, neurotic daughter that you are."

Maura glanced down at her dress, pressing out a non-existent wrinkle. "It's venetian red," she said, offering an explanation even though she hadn't been asked for one. "It's supposed to enhance attention to detail. My father loves attention to detail."

Jane surmised that being a world-renowned anthropologist and professor, which was about all she knew about Dr. Phillip Isles, did require some level of obsessive-compulsive thoroughness. "Well, he's probably also noticed how long we've kept him waiting," she replied, getting to her feet. The pain in her shoulder was beginning to move to her temples, creating a cinching pinch across her forehead. This wasn't exactly how she envisioned meeting Maura's father; she generally preferred having both arms in working condition when meeting new people, especially someone as formidable as him. "How many languages does he speak again?"

"Thirteen."

The answer threw Jane for a moment, her mouth dropping open. "Okay," she said slowly, cutting off any further questions, knowing that if she kept prying her own nerves would be just as bad as Maura's. "Let's get out there. After all, this is the same guy that used to change your diapers, right? No big deal."

Maura glanced up at him, slightly confused. "I don't think he participated in childrearing tasks. Josephine, my nanny - "

"Maur."

"Right." Maura eyed the closed bedroom door, knowing she was only buying time, but turned almost immediately back to Jane. "Is your shoulder okay? Do you need me to get you some aspirin?" She moved toward the bathroom once again, but Jane reached out and caught her shoulder.

"It's so sweet of you to try and take care of me as a distraction, but I'm fine." She raised her eyebrow into an embellished arch. "Remember, they're more afraid of you than you are of them."

Maura nodded, the sarcasm wafting past her. "You go first," she said, hurriedly waving toward the door.

"Maura."

"I'm walking at a slower pace. You go first."

Jane sighed, but slipped out of the door into the quiet hallway. She heard Constance's delicate voice, punctuated by the louder spurts of her own decidedly less soft-spoken mother. Listening to the two of them banter was more akin to listening to a sparrow talk to a sea gull.

"Remember to smile," Maura coached from behind her.

"Remember to relax," Jane volleyed back over her shoulder, her lips curling into an exaggeratedly polite grin as they walked into the living room.

Constance stood immediately, leading the way towards them despite the pronounced limp in her gait, a souvenir from the car accident only a few weeks earlier. Her hair was nevertheless flawless, covering the still faint bruises along her forehead, and her crisp blazer sat squarely on her unstooped shoulders. Her smile was warm, but slightly pinched, and she looked at Maura as if she were evaluating a tarnished painting. Phillip Isles followed behind her with a slow, determined stride, the small of his hand protectively on his wife's back. He was tan, his beige skin appearing as if it belonged under a khaki safari shirt rather than the crisp button-down he wore, but the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a studied casualness. He was just as flawless as his wife and daughter, and that made him all the more intimidating.

Constance cupped both hands around Maura's jaw, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Êtes-vous bien, ma cherie?"

Maura nodded, somewhat surprised by the affection, as fleeting as it was. "Oui," she answered, slipping effortlessly into her parents' preferred language. "Nous sommes bien, juste fatigué." She glanced at Jane, all too familiar with the blank look, and offered a haphazard translation: "We're both okay, just exhausted, that's all."

As Phillip leaned down toward Maura, mimicking his wife's peck on the cheek, Constance turned to Jane, her blue eyes narrowed, but not their usual icy shade; instead they were somewhat friendlier. "I'm glad you're alright, Jane," she said, putting a hand on her forearm. "Somehow, you always seem to save the day, don't you?"

Jane nodded, but felt Phillip's assessing eye on her as he took a step forward. "So I've heard," he said, extending his hand. "Phillip."

"Jane," she returned just as briefly, taking his strong grip, thankful that her right hand was uninjured. Her handshake was something she took pride in, and she gave his hand an extra squeeze.

"It's good to finally meet you," he said, glancing quickly at her shoulder, and then down at his daughter, his voice strong and composed. "Although I do wish it were under different circumstances."

Jane nodded slowly, unsure of what other circumstances would actually get Dr. Phillip Isles back to his family and away from his work, but she kept her thoughts stowed for the time being. His eyes were the color of brown clay, almost like the pieces of pottery and artifacts that he recovered in his anthropological digs. "Me too," she said, pointing toward her sling with a casual smile.

Phillip turned his attention back to Maura, towering over her, and she looked up at him with a reverie more reserved for a respected coach than a father. "Ni lazima kuwa makini zaidi," he said quietly, but no less sternly.

"Daima," Maura answered. "I'm always careful."

This time Jane shared a look with her own mother. She was used to the foreign flurry of French that coursed between Maura and Constance, but this was decidedly un-French, and she bit back a frown. Maura turned quickly to her, already reading her mind; where Jane was concerned, her father was being overly smug.

"Swahili," she explained out of the corner of her mouth.

"Of course," Jane murmured, rolling her eyes towards her mother, who promptly gave a stern shake of her head. No matter what Angela Rizzoli thought of someone, she generally kept her opinion to herself until the person had at least cleared the room.

"We brought over some baklava," Constance said, gesturing toward the kitchen, unable to halt her display of perfected etiquette. She guided Maura to the couch, a steadying hand on her daughter's back, and Jane was pleased to see the comfort behind the gesture . Constance had begun to turn a corner before the accident, and it looked as if near-death had only renewed her desire to strengthen her relationship with her daughter.

"Yes," Phillip echoed, transitioning once again into English. "Hopefully it will be acceptable. You all are Italian, _correto_?" His eyes ran over Jane's face and she unconsciously brushed a hand under her nose, wondering if she had missed something in the mirror. "And I see some ancestral remnants of possibly the Cherokee or Shawnee tribe, no?" he questioned.

"Possibly," Jane replied, inching slightly away from his peering gaze, but Maura spoke up from where she settled into the green cushions of her couch.

"My father is a forensic anthropologist," she offered to Angela and Tommy, almost apologetically. "Specifically focusing on facial bone structure of early and late hominids." She shrugged her shoulders slightly at Jane, but her attention snagged on the high cheekbones and the square jaw; she had herself long ago detected some Native American, but her father had managed to nail the specifics within five minutes of meeting her.

"Ah, yes," Jane said, now attempting to avoid Maura's studied gaze as well as she took a seat in a nearby chair. "Maura's told me so much about you." She glanced pointedly at the smaller blonde, who had never, in actuality, shared much more about her father than the fact that he was a respected professor who had a niche for language and old bones.

Phillip's eyes brushed over the room toward Maura, and he rocked back on his heels as he crossed his arms over his chest. "With all due respect, does someone want to tell me what the hell happened here?" He gestured toward their injured, bandaged limbs.

Maura could tell by the sharpening of Jane's eyes that she was more than ready to jump in with a defensive explanation, but she cut in first, looking up at her father. "It's kind of a long story."

"I don't mind the abridged version," he answered, this time moving his hands into his pockets, pacing once in front of them, nervous energy seeming to guide him.

Maura cleared her throat. "Jane and I were working a case, and I needed to compare a water sample from the scene of the crime. We uncovered evidence of fracking, but were discovered. Our car was rammed, which resulted in compartmentalized syndrome in my leg." She glanced proudly over at Jane. "Jane performed a fasciotomy with acrylic glass from her cell phone."

Jane smiled, but demurred. "Well, without Maura's morse code skills, we'd still be locked inside that flooding car. Even blood loss doesn't impact that brain of hers." She realized quickly that she and Maura were the only ones sharing a smile; Constance and Phillip were staring at the two of them with horrified open mouths. She cleared her throat. "And, uh..."

Maura cut in, her tone clinical and composed. "And, although detectives managed to apprehend several of the frackers, the leader escaped and returned for us." She glanced down at her hands, her composed narrative unraveling as her voice wavered. "But the point is, we're both fine. After all, driving a car is statistically riskier than... being kidnapped by rogue frackers." She looked up at Jane for help, but her father spoke first.

"You're a medical examiner," he blurted. "What are you doing galavanting about chasing criminals? Is this in your contract?"

Maura shook her head, all too aware of Jane's eyes on her. "No, but at times my forensic work does take me outside of the lab. Imagine doing all of your research from inside your office; you have to be in the field as well."

"I don't think my field experience ever left me with a nearly amputated leg."

Constance looked up at him, raising a finger. "Dear, must I remind you of the incident in Angola with the rhinoceros?"

"I'd say that's a bit different," he qualified, his eyes still on Maura. He turned his attention to Jane. "Do you have a partner, Detective? Why didn't he go with you that day?"

"Or _she," _Constance cut in, patting the couch next to her and motioning for her husband to sit.

"Or _she_," Phillip sighed, taking a seat, his hands rubbing over his trouser-covered knees, but his eyes still staring expectantly at Jane. "I don't believe as a medical examiner, Maura has been trained in the fine _art _of apprehending murderers."

Jane took a breath, more than ready to launch into him, but Maura preempted her once again. "I'm a forensic expert," she offered. "Sometimes the scene can't be compromised, and I go along. The detectives at a scene are more than capable of handling the rest."

"And how capable were the detectives that were guarding your home?" he pressed. "Capable enough to allow both of you to be kidnapped?" Constance pressed a calming hand on his thigh, prompting him to give a prolonged sigh.

"I think we're all a bit on edge," she offered cordially. A moment of silence passed between them, but Jane gave Maura an encouraging smile, hoping to alleviate whatever stress her parents were helping to pile onto her.

"Dr. Isles," Angela began, addressing Phillip, but a row of three heads turned towards her, each beckoned by the title they all carried. Jane covered her grin with her fist, making eye contact with Maura, whose lips also curled into a shared smile. Angela cleared her throat. "Uh, Phillip," she emphasized with a wave of her hand. "What sort of work were you doing in Tanzania?"

Jane was proud of her mother, no social exertion too difficult for her; but then again, her mother could have a lively conversation with a wall, as much as she enjoyed talking. And, considering Phillip's stoicism, he was effectively a wall, his flat expression acting as a boundary to whatever it was actually running through his mind. He looked at Angela contemplatively, as if he wasn't quite sure if she would understand the complications of his career, and he offered a layman's version. "Oh," he said with a brush of his hand that was meant to be humble, but came off as self-seriousness. "I was just digging up some old _homo erectus_."

Maura jumped in, always mending her parents comments with a casual bridge, something she had only attempted to do in the past few years, to make them seem more relatable, even though they had never been relatable to her. "He's working on connecting specimens in Tanzania to the Baoule culture of Cote d'Ivoire," she explained. "It's long been suspicioned that the two connected in some ways, but no one's been able to uncover the appropriate evidence." She glanced over at her father, and Jane caught some admiration in her eyes. "He's like a detective too, in that way."

Phillip smiled, briefly. "I would say solving millions year old crimes is less prescient, but it's a living."

"So, are you like Indiana Jones or something?" Tommy asked curiously.

"Not quite," Phillip answered, and Jane felt a rush of protection for her brother as the older man bristled slightly. "He was an _archeologist. _A more than glamorized Hollywood version, at that."

Maura pushed forward. "I don't think you've actually ever seen those films," she said, glancing at her father. "You boycotted them, remember?" She looked over at Tommy, smiling, easing over the awkwardness as much as possible. Jane caught the strain in her eyes, physical signs of the stress she always took on when her parents were around. "Although I distinctly remember a trip to Mozambique which ended with you being pursued by members of the Tsonga tribe."

"The feiticeiro was using a _homo erectus _hyoid bone in his medicinal incantations," Phillip replied defensively, but his eyes twinkled slightly at the memory. "What was I supposed to do, let him continue to heal dysentery with a relic of a prized hominid? A furcula bone and a dose of Humatin worked just as well." He laughed, and Maura joined in, both of them rapt in an exchange of humor lost on everyone else in the room.

Jane had managed to comprehend only a few words and the general idea of their banter, but she smiled easily at Maura's clear admiration of her father. Paddy Doyle may have been Maura's biological father, but clearly nurture had played a large role in her upbringing; she and Phillip had more in common than she let on. As their laughter died down, with Maura tossing a self-conscious glance at her mother, Jane spoke up again.

"I see where Maura gets her love for culture," she said.

Phillip glanced at Maura. "Yes, I had hoped she would use that brilliance in some other formidable field," he replied, his words leeching the smile from Maura's face. "We could have used her medical touch in Tanzania. Angola. You name it."

If she had been able to walk, Maura would have more than likely rose from the couch, busying herself with preparing tea or a haphazard cheese plate, but instead she was resigned to her perch between her parents, their expectations hanging over her. "After Médecins Sans Frontières, I realized that living patients weren't my forte," she said humbly, glancing down at her hands.

Jane felt her teeth click once as her jaw clenched, but she passed over the comment. She was less adept at pursuing conversation, but she was better at pinning people into a corner. "So, Phillip. I see you had a hard time getting back into the States. I'm sure Constance and Maura are glad to see you. How much time do you spend away from home?"

Phillip met her verbal challenge lithely. "I'd say about six months out of the year in a good discovery phase." He glanced at his wife. "Although Constance keeps herself quite busy, I must say. Her projects have begun taking off in Europe."

"When's the last time you visited Boston?"

Maura looked sharply at her, as if tacitly warning her to reign in her budding temper. "Boston hasn't changed, Jane."

"Actually, it has. Before Maura, the city used to have one of the highest backlogs at the ME's office in the country. After two years on the job, she turned it around completely. Maura's lab is now home to some of the most sophisticated forensics equipment in the country."

"I imagine that comes in handy, considering the city's violent crime rate has increased over the past five years, no?" He raised his eyebrows at Maura. "I believe I read that in the Times, recently? It seems as if we should focus our resources on preventing violence rather than just cleaning it up, no? That's a worthwhile endeavor."

"So is bringing closure and justice to families," Jane retorted roughly.

Jane glanced at her mother, and Angela gave a tacit shake of her head, as if already sensing she would be unable to hold in her anger much longer. "Jane, why don't you help me plate some of the baklava?" she asked, and Maura complemented the suggestion with a vigorous nod.

"I don't know," Jane said. "I'm more suited to cleaning up the mess rather than plating it." Before she could take pleasure in her remark, her mother snapped her fingers at her, pointing hastily toward the kitchen. Jane reluctantly stood, making sure to place another exaggerated smile on her face as she passed by the couch. She felt Tommy directly behind her, and she turned, staring blankly at him. "What are you doing? Go sit down."

"Uh-uh," he said. "I'm outta here. You're the girlfriend, you deal with the parents." He snagged one more cookie from his mother's tray before backing towards the door. "This has been great," he called, his voice polite but caked with a veneer of anxiety. "But I'm late for... work." He ignored Jane's scowl as he gave Maura a small smile and a wave before slinking out the back door towards freedom.

"Would anyone like some tea?" Angela asked brightly, holding up the kettle, once again masking over the tension through sheer goodwill.

"Do you have any Rooibos?" Phillip questioned, looking at Maura rather than Angela.

Maura shook her head, resigned to her father's more refined tastes. "No, but I have Honeybush," she offered hopefully.

Phillip held up a hand towards the kitchen. "No, thank you, that's fine," he said. "I'll pass."

Jane watched as his head turned back to Constance, and he leaned into her, whispering something lightly under his breath. "No cookie for him," she hissed to her mother.

"No kidding," Angela whispered back.

Maura was more than aware of Tommy's real reason for ducking out early, and she knew Jane and Angela probably wished they could do the same. She felt her father's eyes on her leg, which was propped onto the coffee table, her bandage a constant object for his disapproval. "Do you remember that time we watched the Elder Medicine Man of the Manitoba tribe perform that amputation of a villager's leg?" he asked, glancing at Constance. He didn't wait for a response, and instead turned back to Maura. "Who would have thought between the two of us it would be you receiving 'bush medicine'."

"It wasn't that bad," she countered, lowering her leg to the floor despite the ache the pumped through it.

"Have you been able to do any more research?" Phillip asked. "The last I remember you were targeting ballistic trajectories in upper respiratory pathways."

Maura glanced at him, surprised that he remembered. She had only mentioned it as an aside in an email to him and her mother, and hadn't expected either of them to pick up on it. "I had that article published actually," she said. "I began working on another project a few months ago, but haven't been able to make much progress yet. Work's been busy."

"Well, maybe an injury will help slow you down," Phillip remarked. "Although it hasn't helped your mother take a break, that's for certain. She's been on the phone nonstop with the gallery."

"Maura, darling, when are you going back to work?" Constance asked. "I was thinking the two of us could take a quick trip out to Collioure before you return."

Maura turned to her with a smile. "Actually, I was thinking that Jane and I could come for a visit in a month or so," she said. "I'd love to show her the city."

Constance raised her eyebrows, not bothering to mask her surprise. "Oh, I didn't think that was Jane's cup of tea," she said, glancing discreetly over her shoulder. "She seems more of the rugged terrain type, no?"

Her father ignored both of them, reaching forward and fingering a bowl on the coffee table. "Is this the Ha-jin that I brought back from Liaoning?"

Maura nodded. "Yes."

"I'd like to go back there at some point," he sighed. "Maybe work will take me there again."

"Oh, please, Phillip, work has taken you nowhere but the continent of Africa for the past ten years. It's a struggle to get you to travel anywhere else. We're never going to get around to that Laos trip."

Phillip leaned back, as if resigned to such complaints from his wife. "Maura, don't you miss traveling for your work?" he asked. "When is the last time you were able to get out of Boston?"

"My life is here," she said quietly. "I enjoy what I do." She also enjoyed who she did it with, but she kept that parcel of knowledge to herself.

"You have a medical degree that could get you anywhere," he said. "You could be doing research."

"I do research," Maura contested.

He sighed. "All I mean is, if you're going to do work on the dead, why not at least make sure it's not dangerous? You don't only have yourself to think about here, Maura."

"I don't think Maura's thinking about herself at all," Jane protested as she carried over a tray of cookies and baklava, intentionally setting it as far away from Phillip as she could. She leaned over and placed a protective hand on Maura's knee as she sat. "I think she performs a valuable service for people. She provides closure to them, after one of the most horrible things in their lives happens."

Phillip's face reddened as he glanced at Maura, then at his wife. "Well, with all due respect, this 'valuable service' has affected our family quite a bit."

"Dad, I'm fine," Maura protested, pointing to her leg.

"I'm not only talking about _you_, Maura. If that car had hit your mother any harder, you'd be performing one of your autopsies on _her_." His words drove a stake of silence into the room, and he rose before any of them had a chance to respond, a cloud marring his face. "If you'll excuse me," he said, more than aware that his anger had gotten the best of him. He walked stiffly towards the front door, letting it shut quietly behind him.

Maura sat, her face marbled in horror, as if she were still attempting to absorb his words. Jane squeezed her knee, but it was Constance that put a hand on her shoulder. "Your father is attempting to deal with all of this after being out of the country for awhile. This is his own guilt, darling, not yours."

Jane nodded, rising from the couch. "With all due respect, Constance, I don't think this is the time or place for him to deal with his misplaced guilt." She glanced at the door. "I'll be right back."

Constance rose from the couch, putting her arm on Jane's. "As good as you are at putting people in their place," she said, giving her a knowing look. "I think I can handle this one."

"No," Maura said, speaking up from beneath them, as if reminding them that she was there. "Let me talk to him."

"Maura..." Constance began, and Jane got the impression that things generally traveled through her first: plans, slices of information, as if she was the only conduit between Maura and her father.

"I want to talk to him," Maura repeated, reaching for her crutches. Jane touched her shoulder briefly, but it was an encouraging pat, not meant to hold her back in any way, and for that she was grateful. She made her way slowly towards the door, slipping outside and squinting into the bright sun. Her father stood with his hands in his pockets, more than likely wishing he were a thousand miles from this particular spot, preferring the heat of nature more than the heat of a claustrophobic city. Maura eased herself onto the small wooden bench near her doorway, content with the silence. Her father had always been quiet, like her; she remembered that.

"That wasn't exactly eloquent of me," he said, his voice strained, and Maura was grateful that at least he began the conversation. He rocked back slightly on his heels before turning to her, his normally confident eyes clouded with uncertainty. "If I'd been able to write it over the course of a week, proofread it, and double check my methods, I think you would have found it would have come out quite differently."

"We all need an editor, at times," Maura replied.

"I've spent too much time digging in the field. I'm not used to cavorting with the living."

Maura smiled to herself. "Welcome to the club."

"I'm used to confronting death that's a thousand years old," he continued, his back still turned to her. "It means nothing to anyone anymore, other than a clue to history or a puzzle piece finally fitting together. It's very different when it comes to - " He swallowed, staring into the ivy maze that covered her terrace. "Since the moment your mother and I laid eyes on you, our whole goal has been to keep you safe," he said quietly. He finally turned to look at her, a slight tinge of betrayal in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell us you found out about Patrick Doyle?"

"Because he's not worth talking about," she said, her vehemence surprising her. "I'm not confused about who raised me."

Her father chuckled. "Please, Maura, you practically raised yourself. You had a self-reliance that was almost unnatural. I stayed up a lot of late nights, telling your mother I was researching my thesis, but I was pouring through texts on child biological attunement and attachment parenting. It was nature's cruel joke. Here we were, better equipped than most to take care of a child, and yet, biologically, I believed we were unable to do so."

Maura swallowed, unsure if she wanted to probe further, but she continued. "Then why did you keep me?"

He didn't answer right away, and instead turned and took a seat next to her, placing both of his hands on either side of him and leaning forward, as if at any moment he would rise again. "You were just this little... specimen. Every day was different. You learned something new, gained some new motor function. I'm not the best at showing it, and I certainly don't say it, but you were, and continue to be the greatest discovery I've ever come across."

Maura glanced down at his hand, his veins like small hills under his roughened, tan skin, and she fought the urge to place her own on top of it. Before Jane, before Angela and the makeshift family that had come to color her life, she never would have thought of such a gesture; now, it simply seemed normal. She clasped her hands safely in her lap. "Paddy Doyle doesn't mean anything to me, biological connection or not. He came back into my life by accident, and showed me a couple of photos he kept with him. That's nothing."

"He wasn't afraid to tell you he loved you, though. And on some level, we both know that's what a child needs to hear." Phillip turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "I bet you he told you how proud he was of you. Didn't he?"

"Not in as many words."

Phillip shuffled, moving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a sleek phone. "I don't always get service out in the field," he said, his thick fingers moving over a few colorful icons. "But I always make sure I have these with me." He angled the screen towards Maura, and she peeked over his arm at a list of titles, her mouth parting slightly in surprise.

"Those are my articles," she said.

Her father nodded, scrolling through them. Some she recognized from her professional career, but some were from as far back as college. "Remember this one?" he asked, clicking through it and pulling up a scanned, typed page.

She smiled. "The Bioarcheology of Children: Forensic and Anthropological Perspectives." She reached out, scrolling through the scanned pages. "My professor wasn't keen on the topic. She said I was clearly trying to work out a past emotional trauma and that it was more suited for the counseling program."

Phillip scoffed. "Are you kidding me, this is brilliant work. Groundbreaking. I particularly enjoy the allusion to Agamemnon. I can only hope you weren't alluding to me."

Maura chuckled, but peered over at him. "You've read all of these?"

"Word for word," he responded, absently scrolling through the titles once again. "Of course, they could be about the evolution of distilled molasses and I would keep them. They're my connection to you." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable, and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "All of this to say, of course, that I worry about you."

A sliver of silence passed between them, Maura taking the time to appreciate what she was sure was as close to an emotional confession as she would ever get from her father. "I'm sure Mom worries about you," she pointed out. "I worry about Jane, at times, too, but I see her passion for her work."

"Are we transitioning back into the logical realm now?" Phillip asked, grinning over at her. "If that's the case, then all I can say is that I support you." He raised an exceptive finger. "And don't think I didn't catch the parallelism you utilized to describe your relationship with Jane."

Maura caught his smile. "I thought it was subtle."

Phillip glanced back at the doorway, half expecting to see Jane pop out from inside it. "She seems rather... impulsive."

Maura smiled proudly. "At times."

Phillip shrugged. "She does seem a hell of a lot more genuine than that cad you were seeing before, that I met in Tabora. What was his name?"

"Ian."

"Right, Ian. He couldn't tell the difference between a lunate or a hamate bone if you etched copy of Gray's Anatomy on your forehead."

"You'll like Jane."

Phillip glanced curiously at her. "You want me to like her?"

"Yes."

"You never cared whether I liked Ian. Or anyone else."

"No."

"Well, then. Teach her the difference between a lunate and a hamate and maybe I'll give her a chance."

Maura chuckled, taking the humor for what it was, and leaning into him just slightly. She wasn't looking for approval from either of her parents when it came to who she dated, but she was well aware that Jane, for whatever reason, was unlike anyone else. "She's already seen me autopsy enough bodies, that I think she may already know the difference."

"Well, there you go. A match made in the morgue."

Maura nodded. "It's a match."

The door opened to their left, but rather than Jane's unruly set of curls, Constance's perfectly coiffed head peered out at them. "I figured either the two of you were either seething silently or sitting silently."

"We're fine," Phillip answered. "I've been rationally talked down, don't worry."

"Good, then come back inside so that Jane will stop pacing all over the room. She has the adrenaline of an amateur Pollack painting."

Maura laughed, taking the crutches that her father handed to her. "She is not going to enjoy these next six weeks of recovery," she said, stepping back into the house.

"Six weeks!" Jane called, her feet plodding across the hardwood floor as she made her way toward them. "I thought the human body was supposed to be resilient. What am I supposed to do for six weeks?"

Constance spoke up, her voice taking on the lilting pitch of someone uncertain as to how her words would be received. "Well, you can always plan your visit to Chateau du Monde," she offered, prompting a row of widened eyes to turn and look at her.

Maura spoke first, smiling grandly. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she said, reaching for her mother's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. Her mother would never be one to don an apron and whip up chocolate chip cookies, or simply come over for dinner, but this was a gesture that meant a lot coming from her. "Thank you."

Constance looked over at Angela with a welcoming smile, seemingly warming up to the idea. "Of course, the whole family must come."

Jane's grin was suddenly frozen on her face. "Whaaat?" she asked, glancing back at her mother, whose smile had broadened at the extended invitation. "The whole whaaat?"

"Well, we all must be there," Constance replied, glancing narrowly up at Phillip. "A family vacation of sorts."

"Of sorts..." Jane repeated, the same frozen grin on her face. She loved her family, dearly, but they did not belong at a Southern French chateau. Her mother's expression, though, was cracking with excitement.

"Well, I haven't been to France in..." Angela tossed her hand casually, but she caught Jane's stare. "... ever."

Maura smiled up at Jane, reaching out with a fisted hand and giving her a playful jab. "I'd say six weeks is enough time to learn a few choice French phrases, wouldn't you?" Jane's frozen face was more than amusing, and Maura suspected that her offer of six weeks of cooped up language lessons wasn't helping ease her anxiety.

"Oh, that sounds fabulous," Angela exclaimed. "I haven't brushed up on my French in..." again, she was silenced by the brown daggers Jane tossed her way. "... ever."

"What do you say?" Maura asked, once again returning a pair of inquisitive, hopeful eyes to Jane, for once encouraged by the idea of a vacation with her parents.

Jane glanced down at Maura before letting her eyes roam over Constance, Phillip, and her mother, each of them mirroring her own apprehension in their own way. Her frozen grin relaxed, easing into a comfortable smile, and she nodded. "What else is there to say? '_Oiu'_."

* * *

**We have one more chapter to go... maybe? Anywhoo, review while you can ;) ****Thank you all for your kind words and for continuing to read!**

**Thanks Cat and Ren for the early read-throughs :)**


	14. Recovery

**Chapter Fourteen**

_"Down here, it's our time!"_

Jane knew the line by heart, and she pumped a fist into the air as her and Frankie's voices echoed along with the familiar characters onscreen. Her brother had been lucky enough to miss Phillip and Constance, but he had more than made up for it by bringing over the one movie that had never failed to entertain them as kids. "Frankie, good call," Jane said. "I definitely needed this."

"Hey, it's a classic," he agreed, modestly shrugging his shoulders and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl that sat in front of him.

Jane grinned as she nodded, angling her voice down at the blonde head resting in her lap. "Maur, there was an entire year that whenever Ma told us to do something, we just said that line, over and over. Drove her crazy." When she got no response from the still form below her, she gingerly moved a piece of hair from Maura's cheek. She was sound asleep.

Jane softened her tone as she peered back up at Frankie. "Apparently the good Dr. Isles isn't amused by the finer artistic points of _Goonies_."

"I don't blame her," Angela called from the kitchen. "Both of you should be exhausted."

Judging by the way Maura hadn't moved in over half an hour, and the stillness of her face even amidst the loudness drifting over her, Jane was more than certain exhaustion had finally taken her over. She hadn't even put up a fight when Frankie came home brandishing his prized copy of _Goonies, _a movie that had coached the Rizzoli kids through sicknesses, days out of school, broken arms, and the emotional traumas of youth. Maura had simply settled her leg atop a pillow at the end of the couch and let her head fall into Jane's lap, an easily natural, but meaningful gesture.

Angela eased into a chair beside them, sighing, the familiar scent of her lasagna wafting through the air. When it came to her mother's cooking, Jane could easily overlook the less than refined tastes of her family; homemade lasagna would win out over galleries and Parisian homes any day. Angela looked over at her, lowering her voice for Maura's benefit. "Do you really think Constance was serious about inviting us to her chateau?"

Jane rolled her eyes at the television. "Well, I'd say Constance has a track record of being polite and not delivering, yeah," Jane replied with a one-shouldered shrug. "Who knows?"

Frankie leaned over toward the popcorn bowl, grabbing another handful and tossing a kernel toward Jane, who glared at him as it landed somewhere in her unruly curls. "Why can't I date a girl with a place in France?" he complained.

Angela gave him a reprimanding frown as she leaned over toward the couch, her fingers fluttering through Jane's hair. "Don't throw popcorn into your sister's hair, you know it takes days to find things in there." She fished around a second more before plucking out the rogue kernel and tossing it back to him.

"Well, if what Constance said was true, you'll be there, too," Jane reminded him, glancing down at Maura, who shifted slightly, her lolling away from the television screen. "Yaaaaay me."

Frankie shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not if I make detective. No time off for the rookie."

Jane grinned at him. "That's a sacrifice you're willing to make, I'd imagine."

"You bet."

Angela reached forward, beckoning for the popcorn bowl. "I think France would be so romantic. When else am I going to get to go? Your father would have never taken me. And in my day, we didn't have the chance to take such luxurious field trips for school."

Jane rolled her eyes towards Frankie, and he returned her annoyance, both more than familiar with the resentment their mother harbored over a particular tenth grade field trip that the two of them were lucky enough to take. "Are you still salty that you didn't get to chaperone that band trip? Come on, Ma, it's been seventeen years."

"I could have gone if your father hadn't decided to run off to that plumbing conference in Nevada. A lot of good it did him, anyway."

Jane put a hand to her temple, but decided against coming down too hard on her mother, mostly because the smell of the lasagna canceled out any attempt at anger. At times she still felt a pang of empathy for her mother, usually followed by a jolt of disappointment in her father. "Ma, if anyone deserves this trip, you do. I'll make sure it happens."

"This is why you're my favorite daughter," Angela said, always pleased with the joke, no matter how many times she used it. "How's your shoulder feeling?"

"Broken," Jane answered with a faint smirk.

Angela ignored her. "You should take the rest of that medication that I left out on the counter. But only after you eat. And the same for Maura. And remember, popcorn doesn't count as dinner."

Jane smiled down at the still sleeping form in her lap. Maura's head had turned, lolling slightly into her stomach and giving her a perfect view of her closed eyes and relaxed, slack features. "It doesn't seem as if this one's having any trouble sleeping." In a way, she envied the heavy slumber. A faint buzz still ran through her own body, keeping her from easing into any sort of relaxation. She had even forgone the first dose of pain meds her mother had tried to force on her, too afraid that she would be caught off-guard by some unseen danger.

"Speaking of lasagna," Frankie said, rising from his chair, "I think I'll help myself."

Angela raised a finger at him. "And then help yourself next door. We're going to let these two get some rest."

Jane's head veered toward her mother. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my overbearing mother?" she asked disbelievingly.

Angela tossed a dismissive hand at her, getting up from her chair and looking down at her with a pair of tired, but grateful eyes. "Frankly, I need some time to lock myself in my bathroom, bawl my eyes out, and say a few prayers. I'll be back to my usual self tomorrow, don't you worry." She leaned over, placing a kiss on the crown of Jane's head and plucking another piece of popcorn from her hair. "I love you both."

"Love you, too, Ma," Jane half grumbled, but gave her a small smile. "Frankie," she called, a bit louder. "Don't take all the lasagna."

Her brother appeared at the side of the couch with a Tupperware container that seemed to hold more than his fair share of dinner, but he simply shrugged. "I'm a budding detective," he said. "I need nutrients." Grinning, he reached out and gave her a fist bump before heading towards the door.

Angela followed him, but turned back to the living room, calling over her shoulder. "Don't forget to pick up Bass' leaves from his placemat. They'll wilt if you don't."

"Ma, you've been living next to Maura for too long. Should I serve him some excrement tea, too?"

"You really should give that tea a try. "It has healing properties."

"Good night, Ma."

"It's good for your digestion - "

"Good _night_, Ma."

Jane gave a satisfied smile as the door clicked shut, and returned her attention to the movie still playing itself out on the screen. Her fingers found their way toward Maura's hair, smoothing a few rogue strands away from her forehead. "In here, it's our time," she murmured, for a moment lost in the peace etched across Maura's face.

As if the sudden quiet had tipped some auditory balance in the room, Maura shifted, her eyes fluttering open. "It's over?" she whispered, and although Jane knew she was referencing the movie, she preferred to answer another, more comforting question. As far as she was concerned, she wanted to put the terror of the past week behind them.

"Yeah, it's over," she assured her, bringing Maura's hand up to her lips, kissing it through her smile. "What'd you think of the movie, Sleeps McGee?" she asked jokingly, knowing she couldn't have seen more than five minutes of it before conking out in her lap.

Maura, however, didn't miss a beat. "I thought it was a decent, multidimensional bildungsroman that effectively communicated the onslaught of industrialization into the modern American suburb."

Jane's lower lip dropped as she stared down at her. "Okay, it's official. You are frighteningly inhuman. And don't ever talk about _Goonies_ with such a refined vocabulary."

Maura chuckled, but reached out and fingered the DVD case on the coffee table. "I read the summary."

"Of course you did." Jane tossed a thumb over her shoulder. "You hungry? Ma left us some lasagna. Her best comfort food."

Maura gazed up at her, sleep still thick in her eyes. "Can you just eat for me?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"I can always eat for two, yeah," Jane replied. "But you should at least have a bit and take some aspirin before you pass out again."

Maura rose at the waist, carefully shifting her legs to the floor. She took a moment to get her bearings, as if she didn't quite believe she was back in her own home. Her tired hazel eyes studied Jane's shoulder. "I'm going to get you some hydrocodone," she said. "But eat before you take it. Otherwise your paraxial circumventricular organ will trigger emesis - "

"Give me the _Goonies_ version, Maur."

Maura looked at her plainly. "You'll puke." She shook her head. "I'm using adolescent colloquialisms; it's time for bed." She moved to stand, but Jane put a hand on her arm.

"Just eat a small bite of something. It doesn't have to be lasagna. I can pick up Bass' uneaten lotus leaves and let you have those if you want." She gave a small, hopeful smile.

Maura recognized the good intention behind the humor, and although her brain was clearly programmed against food at the moment, she nodded anyway. "I'll have what you have," she said.

"Good," Jane replied, taking her hand and gently lifting Maura's leg back onto the coffee table. "Sit back and enjoy the healing powers of Italian food." As she headed into the kitchen towards the pan of lasagna, she frowned at the fact that Frankie had filched much more than she would have liked, but she spooned a couple of helpings onto one of the plates waiting beside the stove. Beside it lay a plate of pain pills and two napkins; her mother had thought of everything. "What did you eat for comfort food as a kid?" she called. "Caviar?"

"Prosciutto, caper berries, and cheese," Maura responded lightly as Jane walked back to her.

"That sounds like punishment," Jane laughed as she set the plate onto Maura's lap and handed over a fork. "We're sharing. I could only carry one plate." She sat next to her, diving in with her own fork. "You never told me how the talk with your Dad went. He was a lot quieter after. That a good thing or a bad thing?"

Maura chewed thoughtfully before responding. "He's not always the most open about what he's feeling. Sometimes he hides behind a wall of academia."

"Yeah, no shit," Jane concurred, her mouth full. "What's funny, is that whatever he does out there, digging around for artifacts, sounds pretty awesome. Too bad no one would ever know it by talking to him."

"He can be aloof."

"Yeah, and out of all the languages he speaks, I don't think a one is standard English. I could barely understand anything he said." She glanced over at Maura, who raised an eyebrow at her.

"Anything else?"

Jane swallowed her bite, and offered an apologetic glance. "Sorry. But you're just as brilliant as he is, probably even more so, and you're sweet and likeable."

Maura corrected her. "And humorous."

This time it was Jane that raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that a joke?" she asked.

Maura's mouth twitched lightly. "Yes."

Jane laughed. "Okay, yes: you're sweet, likeable, and funny." She trailed her fork through the lasagna. "Your mom seems to be less uptight, though. Inviting us all out to visit."

"I know, I can't believe she took me seriously," Maura said, taking another dainty bite. "She never used to allow me to invite friends there."

"Did you have friends?"

Maura's lip curled into a small smile. "No. But I bet I would have, if my mother had let me invite them to France."

Jane laughed. "Well, you've certainly won yourself a girlfriend with this Southern French chateau idea." As her words penetrated the air, Jane stuffed another bite into her mouth, certain her cheeks were the same color as the red sauce oozing from the lasagna.

Maura smiled coyly at her, noting the blush across her cheeks, which only made the comment mean more to her. "Then I guess it's paid off," she said softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss against Jane's temple. "Finish your dinner and then come to bed with me."

"Okay," Jane answered automatically, her lips parting in slight anticipation at the mere invitation, even if they were encumbered by injured limbs. "Maybe I'll just finish eating in the bedroom," she tried, more than aware of Maura's policy of food in places where it didn't belong. Sure enough, the hazel eyes flashed up at her before narrowing.

"You are not eating anything in my bed, Jane."

"Ooo, I think you'll regret that," Jane replied, arching an eyebrow as she leaned over just slightly and placed her lips against Maura's. "After all, some things taste better in bed." From the way the kiss was reciprocated, she was sure her meaning had been understood.

"Behave," Maura instructed as she broke the kiss, but the flush around her neck belied her chastisement. She used the coffee table for leverage as she got to her feet, balancing on one foot as Jane reached up to steady her hips. "I'm going to fix your side of the bed," she said matter-of-factly, attempting to regain her composure. "It's best if you lay at a forty-three degree angle so as not to upset the clavicle during your sleep cycle." She pursed her lips. "We're going to need a lot of pillows. I'm going to raid the guest room." She glanced down at Jane's half-empty plate. "Don't forget to take - "

"My meds, I know," Jane cut in with a smile. "Go climb into bed. I'll see you in a few minutes." She scrunched her eyebrow, eyeing the bandage wrapped around Maura's leg. "On second thought, maybe don't _climb_ into bed."

Maura's chuckle drifted over her shoulder as she turned toward the bedroom, the rubber balls of her crutches padding along the hardwood floor. She glanced once more at Jane, whose attention had turned to the curtained window. Maura recognized the hardness of her jaw and the thin line of her lips, a look that, up until this past week she had associated only with an open case at work. Now it meshed seamlessly into their own personal lives, a look of protection that frightened her while at the same time making her feel incredibly, unbelievably safe.

Her left leg felt huge, a pulsing, but tolerable pain complementing the swelling underneath the white bandage. She certainly hadn't helped it by running on it so fiercely, but that was nothing compared to the pain of what could have happened at the warehouse.

"Stop it, Maura," she coached, shaking her head as she rounded the side of the guest bed, plucking two pillows from it and struggling to carry them while keeping her crutches steady under her arms. As she walked into the comfort of her own bedroom, arranging the pillows into what would hopefully be a tolerable angle for Jane, she couldn't halt the onslaught of intrusive thoughts. If it wasn't memories of the car ride or the burning warehouse, it was the thought of her parents, and the question of her biological mother, which she now had the opportunity to explore further.

A splash of cold water from the bathroom sink, coupled by the mundane task of brushing her teeth helped her slide back into reality, until she eventually slunk onto her bed. Her shoulders weighted her towards the firm mattress, and she shimmied out of her skirt and blouse, but the thought of moving towards her bureau seemed like too tiring an idea. She simply lay back, closing her eyes, content with the darkness until she could once again lean into Jane's comforting touch.

Jane finished the rest of the lasagna quickly, making her way to the kitchen, her eyes drifting out into the darkness outside as she ran water over the sauce-stained plate. It wasn't the pain in her shoulder or the fatigue clouding her head, but the darkness outside that made her most uncomfortable. A beer would help calm her nerves, but she settled instead for a glass of water and a pain pill.

She flipped Maura's porch light off and on, making a mental note to put in a brighter bulb. As the thought flickered, then died away, like the light itself, she chuckled under her breath. "Calm down, Rizzoli." The last thing Maura would want for her peaceful, manicured terrace would be for Jane to light it up like a football field.

Walking into the bedroom, she glimpsed Maura sprawled on her back, a hand draped over her stomach. Jane couldn't help but follow the line of a nude leg all the way up to the pair of green underwear that Maura wore underneath a simple white camisole. As she walked closer, she reluctantly bypassed letting her hand runs across the top of an appealing thigh. As if sensing Jane's presence, Maura awoke gently, her eyes falling open as a smile graced her face.

"Well, you look comfortable," Jane observed.

Maura's eyes fluttered down to her attire, an arm tiredly crossing her forehead. "I had every intention of slipping into pajamas, but this was as far as I got. Hope it doesn't bother you." Her voice was still thick with built-up sleep.

"Unless you count hot and bothered, then no," Jane replied with a laugh, this time allowing her hand to roam freely over Maura's thigh.

"Come lay next me," Maura murmured, reaching up and taking Jane's hand.

Jane laughed, glancing down at the appealing sight beneath her. "I kind of wish I was doing more than just that," she said, only half joking.

Maura shifted, sitting up, her fingers reaching towards the shoulder sling. "Let me help you with this." She expertly unbuckled the outer sling, but frowned as Jane took over, attempting to maneuver her t-shirt off with one arm. Maura watched patiently, sliding her legs to the floor, and simply waited until Jane exhausted her failing efforts.

It didn't take long. "Forget it," she huffed. "I'm wearing this shirt for the next six weeks. I hope you like it."

"Come here," Maura coached gently, pulling her inwards and helping her pull it over her shoulders. She let her eyes fall immediately to the brace that wrapped tightly around her shoulder and upper chest, keeping the bone in place. "How does that feel?" she asked. "Supportive?"

"It feels like I'm wearing shoulder Spanx," Jane replied with a grimace, her hand going up self-consciously to cover her bare chest.

"There's a shirtdress in my closet," Maura offered, noting the flush that crept across Jane's neck, as if she wasn't aware of how beautiful she was. "It will probably fit more like a shirt on you, but it will be a bit easier to pull off and on."

Jane eyed Maura's closet wearily. "Uh-uh," she said. "There's no way I'm going to be able to find anything in that Taj Mahal of a closet."

Maura smiled at her. "It's on the first rack on your right, beige section, knee-length dresses."

"Thank you, Closet Genie," Jane murmured, taking a step towards the closet, but Maura grabbed her free arm, eyeing the pants she still wore.

"Let me help you with these," she said.

Jane was still covering her chest, which wasn't hard to do considering her arm was locked into place, and she stared down at Maura's fingers as they fidgeted with her belt buckle. Her pants moved easily down her hips, and she began to step out of them, but Maura stilled her firmly, her hands moving to the waistband of the black briefs still gracing her hips. The clear, hazel eyes shifted upwards, as if checking in, and Jane gave a tacit nod, allowing her briefs to follow the path of her pants, leaving her bare beneath Maura's burning gaze. She was more than aware of the imperfections that littered her body: scars, unhealed nicks and scrapes, not to mention the unbecoming sling that encased her shoulder. Maura's eyes grazed lovingly over all of them, until they once again locked onto Jane's, and she leaned forward, pressing a kiss just underneath her belly button.

"I thought you were tired," Jane said softly, her voice huskier as Maura's lips trailed across her stomach.

"There's an increase of adrenaline with the spike in sexually responsive testosterone," Maura replied, her scientific explanation cut short as she moved her lips across another inch of skin. The taut stomach in front of her had played a leading role in many of her fantasies, but as her hands moved across Jane's torso and around to her back, Maura simply relished the feel of her. Having almost lost her at the warehouse, she wanted to lose herself in her smoothness, her strength, her scent.

As her lips moved lower, Jane automatically arched into her, vainly attempting to keep the upper half of her body still. Her knees shook slightly as Maura's tongue teased even lower, the anticipation of her caresses rendering her knees weak. "If you keep going," she whispered, "I think my legs are going to be just as useless as yours."

The words seemed to pull Maura out of her reverie, and her lips slowly retraced their path back up, resting her forehead resignedly against Jane's stomach. "This is a normal response to trauma," she said logically, her fingers trailing absently over the scar at Jane's abdomen, a reminder of another time when she had almost lost her. "Searching for a physical connection as a grounder from intrusive, frightening thoughts of mortality."

Jane knelt carefully, sliding in between Maura's legs and using her free hand to pull her closer. "Does this ever turn off?" she asked, pressing her lips against her temple, as if she half expected to feel Maura's thoughts buzzing underneath her lips.

Maura met her eyes, the stillness around them seemed siphoning them off from the rest of the world. "Sometimes," she whispered softly before leaning into Jane and meeting her mouth, their kiss deepening, each of them compensating for the immobility of their bodies with nubile, probing tongues.

Jane moaned, knowing they could only go so far, but she couldn't resist letting her uninjured hand venture underneath Maura's shirt and caress the smooth skin of her stomach, slowly inching upwards. Maura arched into her touch as much as her leg would allow, voicing her frustration through a heavy moan, her teeth nibbling Jane's lower lip.

"I'd take this off for you," Jane murmured, fingering the edge of the camisole that was becoming more burdensome as she tried to delve underneath it. "But I think I'd lose some of my sexy if I tried it with just one hand."

Maura smiled, leaning back slightly and slipping it easily over her head. Her bra followed, and she welcomed Jane's heated gaze against her newly bared skin. Whereas less than a week ago that same gaze had dismantled her, and made her nervous, it now excited her, firing a series of pleasurable sensations across her skin.

Jane's eyes ran heatedly across the perfect flesh in front of her. The fog of sleep had lifted from Maura's eyes and was now replaced by a darker lust, her tongue running slowly over her lower lip as she bent forward to capture Jane's mouth once again.

Knowing she would more than likely regret the move, Jane rose clumsily to her feet, pushing Maura back and using her good arm to steady herself over her. Her need escalated, and she cursed the pain in her shoulder which was now throbbing almost as much as the need that pulsed through her. Maura's hands rested on her hips, but moved downward, causing Jane to lurch forward, her shoulder jerking as a first hint of pleasure pinged through her. It was quickly overshadowed by a sharp pain along her collarbone, and she broke the kiss with a quick inhale, lurching upward. "Ow!"

Maura's eyes popped open, her hands sliding quickly back to a more chaste place along Jane's hips as she jerked her legs back, her own cry echoing Jane's as pain sluiced up her shin. "Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly, peering down at Jane, who had collapsed onto her knees, her eyes pinged shut. "Did you upset the coracoid process?"

Jane peeked one eye open at her, breathing hard. "No, I mostly just upset my libido," she answered, grimacing as she cupped her elbow with her good hand. "What about you, your leg okay?" Jane looked up at her as she smiled through her pain.

Maura nodded, reaching for her. "How about this time, you actually just lay down with me?" she asked, settling back onto the bed and stretching her leg gingerly in front of her as she patted the space next to her.

Jane slumped onto the bed next to her, grimacing as she settled back against the plethora of pillows Maura had set up for her. "I know this is better than the alternative," she sighed."You know, of being dead and all, but this really _sucks_." Despite the pain radiating in her shoulder, her eyes didn't stray far from the bareness of Maura's thighs, and she reached down and jerked the comforter over them. "I can't stare at that temptation anymore."

Maura laughed, the action eclipsing the throb in her lower leg. "Only six weeks. You'll be back to boxing around that horrid dummy in your apartment in no time." She cocked her head. "Although there are cases where the sphenoid muscle doesn't always fuse correctly back into the scapula. But it's rare."

"Thank you, Patch Adams" Jane said, rolling her eyes. "Keep that horrible beside manner at the morgue."

Maura chuckled softly. "You know, after everything that's happened, I don't mind hibernating for awhile."

"That doesn't seem like the Dr. Isles I know," Jane observed. "The same woman who's never missed a day at work. Or taken a lunch away from her desk."

"Maybe my father was right, in a way," Maura continued. "What if we both just need a break from this for awhile?"

Jane didn't answer. She had never envisioned herself sitting behind a desk, or clocking in at a mundane job each day. Her job was dangerous, but it was worthwhile, and she lived for the feeling of purpose that it gave her. She had always wondered why Maura was attracted to the work; with her mind, she could sit on national panels, make groundbreaking scientific discoveries. "I think it's worth asking yourself why you do this work in the first place," she said.

"Because I'm strange," Maura replied simply.

Jane smiled over at her. "I don't think that's the reason." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, quickly correcting herself. "I don't think that's the _only _reason."

Staring up at the ceiling, Maura let a moment pass before she attempted to continue. "I guess I do it because growing up, I didn't have anyone to speak for me. Parents or friends, or anything like that. I just want to speak for those who can't speak for themselves anymore."

"Cue forensics recruitment ad," Jane teased, but she reached for her hand. "Maybe we're both a little strange." She traced the fine lines of Maura's fingers. You know, together we make one whole functional person," she observed, motioning between her shoulder and Maura's bandaged leg.

"Jane, that's so sweet," Maura replied, not catching the gesture between their injured limbs. "That's the nature of a relationship, I suppose," she sighed. "Opposites attract, each person has attributes that help the couple forge toward greatness. Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt, Bill and Hillary Clinton, Marie and Pierre Curie..." Her thoughts meandered. "Although they both died as a result of their work with radiation."

Jane glanced over at her, raising her eyebrows. "I meant... physically," she corrected, pointing between them. "More of a... Frankensteinian kind of way."

"Ah," Maura replied, the meaning dawning on her. "Right." She blushed slightly, but smiled it away. Jane enjoyed that look, as if they were newly dating, rather than old friends simply taking their relationship to the next level. She rather enjoyed the fact that she could still make Maura Isles slightly nervous.

"So, promise me you won't go gallivanting off with your dad to Southern Tanzania? At least not before these six weeks of recovery hell are up?"

"I think you'll end up liking my dad," Maura said.

Jane grinned over at her. "The two of you are a lot alike, it seems. Besides the fact that you speak your own scientific language that no one else can understand. Like father, like daughter." She glanced over at her, gauging her response as she continued, hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds. "You're definitely Phillip Isles' daughter, Maur, not Paddy Doyle's."

"Nurture seems to have played a major role in my upbringing," she agreed, fidgeting nervously with her fingers. "I still wonder about my mother, though." She shook her head. "But to fall in love with a guy like Paddy Doyle, she couldn't have been too bright."

"You don't know that, Maur, she was probably just young and a little naïve. Do you want to find her?"

Maura didn't answer right away, but eventually nodded. "Yes." She purposely stilled her fingers, entwining them with Jane's once again, hoping the touch would pull her back from the spiral of her biological parents. "First, though, I want to enjoy the family I have now. In France."

"Are we really all going to vay-cay together in a French chateau?"

"Of course," Maura answered. "Don't lesbians generally trend toward this sort of immediate engulfment into long-term relationship behavior?"

"I wouldn't call this new," Jane replied with a low chuckle. "How long have we known each other again?"

Maura didn't disappoint, and once again rattled off the number with startling quickness. "Three years, four months, and six days. "

"Right. Well, I've loved you for at least three years, four months, and two days. So I'd say this trip is a long time coming. There's nothing immediate about it, trust me."

Maura smiled up at her with a pair of hopeful eyes. "It wasn't love at first sight?" she asked playfully. "Are you saying that I am an acquired taste?"

"No..." Jane replied, glancing over at her with a devilish grin. "I'd say you have quite an addictive taste, from what I can tell."

Maura laughed, moving her head closer to Jane's and more on level with the pyramid of pillow she lay against. "Is that your bedroom talk, Jane Rizzoli?"

"Depends on if it's working."

Maura sighed happily, running a hand along Jane's stomach, teasing her flesh. "I think this experiment is working," she said softly.

"Why's that?"

Maura looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Because I've never wanted to touch someone more than I do right now. And yet I am completely, utterly content just to be laying beside you."

Jane started to offer a wisecrack of some sort, but instead she paused, allowing Maura's words to sink past the layer of bravado she so often brandished. "Me too," she agreed quietly. She shifted, allowing Maura to place her head in the crook of her good arm. "How do you say, 'I'm so lucky to have a cyborg of my very own' in French?"

Maura chuckled, looking up at her. "As translator, I'm going to take the liberty of modifying that a little and excising 'cyborg'." Her voice took on a softer lilt. "'Je suis tellement chanceuse de vous avoir'."

"How do you say, 'I'd like a beer with a tiny umbrella in it, please?'"

Maura's laughter grew as she rolled her eyes. "French lessons will start tomorrow."

"How do you say, 'Maura and I are going to go skinny dipping'?"

"Jane..."

"How do you say - "

"Go to sleep, Jane."

"Say it to me in French."

"Vous êtes impossible."

Jane laughed, gleaming at least part of Maura's meaning, but her smile eased into one more natural, and she looked over at the woman lying next to her. "How do you say, 'I love you'?"

Maura returned her gaze. "I think you've been a citizen of the world long enough to know how to say that," she said with a smile.

"I want to hear you say it, though," Jane whispered, letting her fingers trace slowly up Maura's arm, enjoying the row of goose bumps prickling underneath her touch.

Maura edged closer to her, leaning in and planting a kiss at the corner of her lips, the shadows playing across her eyes. "Je t'aime."

Jane's face lit up with a smile, her own love melting the anxiety and fear that had plagued her for most of the day. Maura had colored her world in a new way, and the only thing she wanted to do for the next six weeks of recovery was share it with her. "Je t'aime," she repeated, nodding and placing a kiss atop Maura's head. "I think that's all the French I need to know."

* * *

******Bonus interactive feature: read this chapter while listening to Jessie Ware's 'Wildest Moments'. ****Thank you for reading, and please, don't hesitate to let me know what you think: the good, the bad, the ugly. **

**I have an Epilogue coming for you all - guess where it's set? :)**

**Thanks Cat and Ren for the read-through!**


	15. Epilogue: Aquitaine

**Epilogue: Aquitaine, France**

The morning sun glinted brightly across the water, but it hadn't yet warmed the still crisp air, and Maura wrapped her thin robe tighter around her as she padded barefoot towards the pool. Sitting along the edge, she dipped her feet cautiously into the water, watching as Jane swam freely, her lithe form crossing quickly from one side of the pool to the other. It was a form of exercise she had come to practice through rehab, and made a point to continue it even after she had regained full use of her shoulder. Throughout their short stint at her parents' home in Aquitaine, Maura had felt the same light, feathery kiss on her temple each morning before Jane climbed out of bed, eager to get in a few laps. Although she hadn't said as much, Maura could tell that it had become more than exercise: it had become freeing, like a morning meditation.

Jane's arms slicedcleanly through the water, her gentle splashes mimicking the sound of the waves lapping against the nearby shore, which stretched beyond the house. Maura sat, quietly sipping her tea, her own morning meditation made easier by the quietness around them. It wouldn't last; soon, both of their families would bustle around them, showers running, bathroom doors slamming, espresso machine grinding. But for now, it was simply the two of them, as it had been for the past three months. She smiled as Jane ended her lap and floated over to her, ducking her head under the water and blowing a few bubbles before rising with a carefree smile.

"Good morning," she greeted, rising a few feet out of the shallow water as her feet found the bottom of the pool. Maura's eyes followed the slow trail of droplets down her firm torso, made even tauter by the weeks of swimming.

"Good morning," Maura echoed pleasantly, her eyes finally trailing back where they belonged. Jane's gaze fell to the magazine that Maura brought with her. "And what are we reading this morning, Dr. Isles? You continuing your anthropological research into the psyche of American Hollywood? Are stars _really _like us?"

"That copy of _US _was your mother's," Maura reminded her, a streak of playful defensiveness in her tone. "I was simply perusing it to pass the time."

Jane gave a placating nod, grinning up at her as she fingered the edge of the magazine. "Uh huh. Oooh, _W Magazine_. Aren't you fancy."

Maura pushed aside Jane's wet fingers, which were muddling the cover. "It's the _Architectural Digest _of fashion."

Jane shrugged, pressing a kiss against one of Maura's knees and sliding in between them. "Whatever you say, mon cherry."

"_Mon cherie_," Maura corrected, although she had given up on ever perfecting Jane's French pronunciation. She set her tea mug down, moving her hands to Jane's arms and pulling her closer, her eyes glinting with both sun and excitement. "I want to take you somewhere today."

"Let me guess, it's a place of plentiful wine and cheese?"

"Now, you know that's a given," Maura answered with a smile, unable to hold back her enthusiasm, which had been bubbling inside her for most of their trip. "I want to take you Dordogne."

The name meant nothing to Jane, but that didn't stop a curious smile from curling her lips. She hadn't seen Maura as excited about any of their other day trips, which probably meant Dordogne was either home to French couture or French ruins. "I guess you could tear me away from this beautiful beach for another day."

Maura clapped her hands together, grinning. "Oh, there will be plentiful water. Dordogne sits right along the Vézère River, and most of its buildings date from the twelfth century, but it's caves are home to etchings from the Paleoliticum." When Jane didn't meet her smile, she continued, clarifying: "The Stone Age. It's absolutely breathtaking. I go every time I'm in Aquitaine. My dad introduced me to it; he used to take me with him to some of the river caves to uncover pigmented prints. Oh, I loved it."

"You were never a child, were you?" Jane asked. "You've always been a cyborg."

Maura pushed her playfully away with her foot. "They are over forty thousand years old, Jane; even you would think they were cool."

"I think there's an insult in there somewhere, but never mind," Jane said with a grin, sliding back in between her legs. "Why don't we invite your dad to come along? He's only been here for two days, I've barely had a chance to even try and fail to impress him."

Maura twitched her lip, running a hand absently along Jane's shoulder. Her father had flown in a few days into the trip, and so far had managed to keep a polite, but measured distance. "I don't want to bother him," she said, waving off the suggestion. "He's busy writing that journal article. It's enough for him just to be here."

The words may have sounded convincing, but Jane knew from Maura's disappointed gaze that she was simply toeing the same line she always had with her parents. Although Constance had been more than welcoming, including Angela in most everything she did, Phillip was another story, complex and untold. It wasn't long ago that she had seen the same reticence from a certain new medical examiner; the similarities between Maura and her father were uncanny, morphing Jane into a devoted advocate of nurture over nature. "Whatever you say, but it could be good for the two of you. I mean, really, am I going to be able to keep up with old ruins like your dad can?"

"I'd rather just spend the day with you," Maura professed. If she had known that her father would actually join them, she would have given him earlier notice. But she had planned the trip to Dordogne as soon as they arrived in France, eager to share something with Jane that had colored her younger years with a love for history and science."How many laps did you do?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Twenty-five," Jane replied effortlessly.

"Your stamina is really something to be admired."

Jane shrugged, tossing her head towards the coast that loomed behind her. "It's less about stamina and more about the view, I'd say." She grinned as she turned back to Maura. "I could do a hundred laps a day if I woke up to this every morning."

"You definitely deserve a croissant," Maura said.

"I deserve a kiss," Jane corrected, placing her hands on the concrete at either side of Maura's legs.

"Don't get me wet, Jane," Maura warned, holding up a finger at her. She was met with a pair of raised eyebrows and a set of devilish brown eyes, each of them calling each other's bluff for a silent moment. Jane moved first, launching herself out of the water like an eager dolphin, straddling Maura's hips and sending them both backwards. Maura's protest was silenced by Jane's lips as she pressed against her, water seeping coolly through her thin robe. Jane kissed her through her smile, relishing not only Maura's lips, but the fleeting moment of alone time she managed to snatch amid the constant presence of family.

She heard a throat clear from the patio, and her face reddened as she glanced up and caught Phillip walking casually along the portico carrying a magazine and a cup of coffee. She rolled off of Maura, scrambling quickly to her feet, and reached for the towel that she had draped a nearby lounge chair. Casually tossing it over her shoulder, she reached down to help Maura up off the ground. Her thin robe, now damp and wet, clung to her chest, leaving little to the imagination, and Jane ripped the towel from her shoulder and draped it over Maura instead, eliciting a small eye roll from her.

"Good morning, Dad," Maura called cheerfully, heading towards him.

"I see you two greet the day quite early."

Jane's face reddened a bit more, but rather than duck inside, she sat down next to him. "_Architectural Digest_," she said, peekingat the magazine he held. "Funny, that's what Maura's reading." She grinned over at her, watching as Maura dropped her _W_into the nearest chair, out of sight.

"Very funny," she said lightly, rounding the table and perching on Jane's lap. She had made an effort at such displays of affection throughout their vacation, and although Jane didn't say as much, she welcomed them.

Phillip took a sip of his coffee, his gaze focused on the expanse of ocean stretching from the house. "What are the young people up to today?" Her turned his head slightly back to the house, a disdainful grimace curling his upper lip. "The over fifty crowd seems to think it pleasurable to spend the day 'antiquing'."

Jane shuddered; shopping was burdensome enough, but shopping through old, musty antique stores sounded downright miserable. She continued, hoping she had finally found something in common with Maura's father. "You don't care for that, I guess?"

"Not so much, no," he said, a certain awkward levity in his voice, as if he were trying out a new joke. "I keep telling Constance that if she wants old artifacts, I can definitely show them to her. She prefers her antiques somewhat shiny and a bit higher priced than what I can offer."

"Speaking of old, Maura's taking me to Dorknob today," Jane said, squeezing her girlfriend's hip.

Maura felt her stomach lurch as her father's eyes looked up at her, surprised, and the sudden guilt made her forget to correct Jane's pronunciation.

"You're going to Dordogne?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," Maura said with a contrite nod, sheepish that she hadn't extended an invitation to her father. But by now, she had already planned the day with Jane, reserving a canoe and a table for two at a local restaurant, eager to have some intimacy with her. "You know how much I love it there. I wanted Jane to see it."

"You should come with us," Jane offered, clearly eager to bring Phillip closer into the family fold.

Maura glanced back at her, then at her father. His eyes flashed with a quick enthusiasm, the same excitement she used to see there when they planned their visits there. "My, we haven't been there in years, have we? Do you remember our last trip?" He eyed his daughter casually, a shared secret between the two of them.

"What happened?" Jane asked, nudging Maura's hip.

Maura laughed suddenly, almost as if by accident, as she recalled the memory. "We got caught in that rainstorm underneath that cove," she said. "I was sure the river level would rise too much for us to get out."

Jane's face morphed from a smile into a horrified frown, but Phillip and Maura laughed mirthfully. "That sounds... exciting," she said uncertainly. She wasn't sure the goal of relaxing in France was to find more life or death experiences, but if it brought Maura even a bit closer to her father, she was on board. "Let's do it." She glanced up at the clear sky, just a few clouds streaking across it. "It doesn't seem like there's any rain coming in."

"That's the problem," Phillip replied, raising a finger. "With these wind currents, a storm could drift in at a moment's notice, leaving you high and... well, not exactly dry on the river." He set his newspaper down, peeling off the reading glasses he wore. "It sounds like fun."

"What sounds like fun?" Frankie's muffled voice sounded from the patio door as he stepped out into the sunshine bare-chested, a pastry in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

Jane looked up at him, shaking her head. She had worried her brothers would have little to do in Aquitaine, but so far they had managed to occupy their days with a genial languor, never leaving the pool or the beach for too long. She frowned at the sight of Frankie's glass, and the lines around her mouth only deepened as Tommy stepped out behind him, an exact mirror image, both of their eyes covered by a pair of dark sunglasses. "Are you two drinking champagne?" she asked disbelievingly.

Tommy shook his head, holding up the fluted glass. "Beer. Constance won't let me drink it out of anything but this."

"Beer for breakfast?" Jane shook her head. "Show some class."

"Bon matin," Constance called as she slid outside, carrying an identical glass along with a tray of sliced fruit. Jane raised both eyebrows at her. "I see this is a thing," she said, pointing up to her.

Constance smiled briefly down at her as Frankie reached over, taking the fruit tray from her hands, at least mimicking a gentleman, even if he wasn't exactly a shining example of one. "Oh, it's the last full day of this family soiree, why not make the most of it?" she said breezily.

Jane leaned into Maura's ear, covering her whisper with a smile. "I'd say she's _celebrating _that it's the last full day."

Maura chuckled, leaning back into her.

"Bonjour!" Angela bellowed, also carrying a glass and another full tray of croissants that she unfortunately set down in front of Tommy, who leaped on them, snatching two. "What a beautiful day," she sighed, taking a seat and leaning back in her chair. Jane chanced a look at Frankie and Tommy, neither her or her brothers remembering the last time they'd seen their mother so sincerely happy. In Boston, sitting still wasn't something that came easily to her; she was always on the move, exerting a nervous energy over her children, her knitting, or her blog, but in France she would sit for hours, reading a bad romance novel and staring at the ocean from underneath a wide, straw hat.

"Something tells me Ma may decide to stay here," Frankie said with a grin as he buttered a croissant.

"I wish," Angela echoed, the smile still plastered across her face.

"You know you're always welcome, Angela," Constance offered, taking a small sip of what Jane assumed was wine, not beer.

"What are you two doing today?" Tommy asked, turning to Maura, his mouth full. "Jane, you up for water volleyball after breakfast? And no cheating this time by putting Maura on your shoulders."

"Actually, we're going to Dordogne," Phillip offered, piping up before Jane could respond, his enthusiasm blooming the longer he stewed upon the idea. Maura glanced at him, surprised by his sudden interest. Constance seemed no less surprised, but she smiled, reaching over and placing a hand along Phillip's knee.

"Ah, your old medieval castle playgrounds? It's been years since you've been there."

"Castles?" Tommy echoed, suddenly curious. "Like Game of Thrones?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Probably not, Tommy."

"Sergeac _is_home to a medieval village," Phillip explained. He waved his hand up at the younger men. "If that interests you, you should come along."

Maura's lower lip dropped, taken aback by her father's invitation; as far as she knew, he hadn't spent more than five minutes alone with Tommy and Frankie. "What?" she asked bluntly. Her solo excursion with Jane was suddenly spiraling beyond her control.

Jane misread her outburst, giving her an encouraging smile. "That's really nice of you, Phillip," she said. "You and Maura can switch off on tour guide duties."

Constance grinned at her husband. "Phillip is like a boy when it comes to Dordogne and all of its primitive offerings."

"Not primitive, _historical_," he corrected, glancing up at Maura. "What do you say: make it a group trip?"

Tommy glanced over at Frankie, shrugging. "I can do castles."

Frankie nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Constance looked over at Angela. "Sergeac has a few antique stores. We can do some shopping there and meet you all for lunch at _Les Pilotes_."

Maura's mouth opened in surprise for the second time that morning, unsure of whether the wine or the good weather was going to her parents' heads. Maura was more than familiar with _Les Pilotes_, as that was the very place she had reserved a table for two. Once again, her plan for alone time had been spoiled. "Are we sure?" she asked, unthinking, suddenly overwhelmed by the idea of family that she had so craved.

Jane stared up at her. "Of course, Maur," she said. "This is a perfect way to end a family vacation, right?" She tried to discern the mask of disappointment crossing the hazel eyes that stared down at her.

Maura nodded slowly. "Of course," she said, brushing off her concerns. It had been her idea to include both of their families, as a way to get to know one another, but also to cement the fleeting insecurities she had surrounding her own parents, both adopted and biological. She should be content that her hopes were finally coming true.

"Well, if everyone's going..." Angela began, glancing at Constance.

"It's settled then," Phillip said, reaching for the fruit tray. "We'll make a day of it."

"Are you sure you can spare a full day?" Maura asked. "What about your article?"

Phillip looked curiously up at her. "Dordogne is more than worth it. You know that."

"Great," Maura said, glancing down at her still damp robe, needing an excuse to disappear for a moment. "You know what, I'm going to put on some Dordogne-worthy attire." Pulling away from Jane's hand, she headed for the door, walking up the stairs toward the bedroom that she and Jane had shared for the past week. It was a more than luxurious offering with its own bathroom and a terrace that offered a view of the Atlantic.

She draped her damp robe over a lounge on the terrace, Tommy and Frankie's voices intertwining with Angela's down below. It had been due in large part to her convincing that Jane had even extended an invitation to her brothers to travel with them, and now she was wishing they would simply just give them space. She was more than used to being alone, and had never known anything different; the notion of family, as much as she wanted it, would have its own learning curve. As frustration built behind her eyes, she wiped a quick hand across them.

"Maur?" Jane's voice came from inside the bedroom, and she walked curiously over to her, a towel wrapped precariously around her waist. "Everything alright? I ate your croissant."

"Yeah," Maura said quickly, dipping her head in embarrassment. "With all the swimming you've done this week, you deserve two."

Jane stepped closer, peering down at her with concerned eyes. "Hey," she said, reaching for Maura's arm. "You want to talk about it?" Over the past three months, she'd come to know Maura better than she ever thought she would, learning not only the contours of her body, but the complex folds of her mind. Whatever had just transpired downstairs, it was clear something about it had upset her.

Maura turned to her, suddenly unable to hold in the well of inexplicable emotion frothing forth: "I wanted this trip to Dordogne to be just the two of us," she wailed, her tears inexplicably, and almost comically, trailing down her cheeks. She moved towards the bathroom, yanking a few tissues from a holder on the sink.

Jane seemed caught off guard, but moved on instinct, approaching her as if trying calming an injured animal, her brain still attempting to catch up with the outburst. "What?"

"I had a canoe ride and a lunch planned for just us," Maura continued, sniffling slightly, attempting to get control of herself. "I don't know why I care so much all of a sudden. It's great that my dad wants to come with us, right? I had no idea he would want to come, and I didn't invite him. Why didn't I invite him? And why is my amygdala overtaking my left hemisphere?"

"Oh no, Maura," Jane said, her voice apologetic as she recalled the way she had haphazardly extended the invitation to Dordogne to everyone around them. "I had no idea you were trying to make this that special."

"Why am I crying?" Maura asked, raising her hands questionably. "This isn't something to cry about. It's just... there are people around... all the time." She shook her head. "I love it, don't get me wrong, but – I just wanted some time for us."

Jane rubbed her shoulders up and down Maura's arms. "Hey, that's okay. So we're surrounded by family; that's what we wanted, right? Get the two clans together and see what would happen? And who knew, it's been a week and I haven't killed Tommy." She grinned, until Maura met her eyes and let a small smile curl her lips.

"Dordogne is just special to me. I wanted to share it with you."

"Hey, and this will still be special, okay? But not only are you making this special for us, you've made it special for my mom, my brothers, and hopefully for your parents, too, okay? This is meaningful, Maur."

"You're right," she said, sighing and putting a hand to her lips as she sank ontothe bathroom counter. "I don't know what's wrong with me, this irrational display of conflicting emotional manifestations."

"Are you kidding, if you're not crying or yelling, then it doesn't count as quality family time. Welcome to the club."

"I guess," Maura said, letting out a combination of a laugh and a sigh.

"So let's just make this into another relaxing, amazing day, okay?"

A bang against their door startled both of them, and Tommy's voice sounded through the wood. "You fair maidens getting ready? This ship sails for the castles in twenty!"

"See?" Jane emphasized, barely masking a grimace as she let her sarcasm take over. "Relaxing. Amazing."

Maura smiled, then deftly pulled the towel from Jane's hips, tossing it to the side. "He said twenty minutes," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Jane's neck. "That gives us an extra ten minutes to shower..."

"Shh, say no more," Jane said, flicking on the water, wasting little time in peeling Maura out of the silk pajama shorts she wore. She struggled out of her wet bathing suit, pushing the smaller woman indelicately under the spray of the showerhead. Ten minutes wasn't a lot of time, but she had become an expert at making each one count.

* * *

"Now, the tourists' way of seeing Sergeac is to go on foot," Phillip called over his shoulder, his oar disappearing under the clear water of the Vézère. "But the real way to see it, the way explorers thousands of years ago first saw the land, is by boat." He gestured towards the canoe he commanded. "Or in our case, canoe."

"The Vézère has invited exploration since the days of the Neanderthals," Maura called out, her voice carrying towards Tommy and Frankie, who were each settled in their own canoe.

Jane tossed her head towards her brothers, who were floating just ahead of them. "The Neanderthals are still here, apparently." Her comment earned her a quick look from Maura, who sat in front of their canoe, eagerly paddling them forward along the wide, curving river, the green leaves of full trees arching over them.

"Now, as we round this bend, you'll get your first glimpse of what early explorers saw," Phillip called, leading their small caravan. "On your right you'll see fortified Church of Sergeac towering in the cliffs. The Lascaux hill, just beyond it, is termed the Sistine Chapel of France, due to its cave paintings."

"Holy shit," Tommy gushed as they rounded the small bend, a tower of rock looming over them out of the trees, leaning almost menacingly over the water.

"Holy shit," Frankie confirmed, his head angled upwards, for a moment forgetting his chore of paddling, sending their canoe angling towards the bank.

"Holy shit," Tommy repeated, pointing toward a row of structures tucked along the side of the stone. "Are those houses? They're like house-caves."

"Holy shit, Tommy, look at that," Frankie called, pointing towards a large, looming structure in the distance.

Jane called up at them, a frown on her face. "Hey, you Neanderthals, how about you try expanding your vocabulary for a change?" Maura's face was upturned, concentrating solely on the architecture rising above them, her lips parted in awe, as if seeing it for the first time.

"These overhangs," Phillip called, leading them underneath a large, looming piece of smooth stone, "used to shelter cave dwellers. The Vézère carved this pathway into the limestone over thousands of years."

"Holy shit," Jane murmured, momentarily forgetting her chastising words to her brothers as they coasted underneath the overhang, the sun casting shadows along the walls around them, giving the gently lapping water an ethereal glow.

Maura looked back at her. "It's beautiful, no?"

"Are you kidding? I've never felt so tiny," Jane said. "This is mind blowing."

Maura turned back to the front, leaning forward. "Dad, Jane and I are going to veer off for a second towards Vallon Cave. We'll meet you at the fork."

"That's fine," he called. "Tommy, Frankie, follow me. There's a small inlet where they used to house a medieval jail. That will appeal to you, no?"

"Not a very big jail if it's in the side of a mountain, huh?" Tommy asked.

"They didn't need one," Phillip replied. "Most of its patrons were put to death via guillotine."

Jane laughed as Tommy's face scrunched at the explanation. "Have fun!" she called cheerily, waving as she and Maura veered left, circling away from them down a small, calmer channel. "So, Maur, you know where you're going?" she asked needlessly.

Maura didn't bother glancing back at her. "Of course I do. I know this river by heart."

"You ever camp along here?" Jane asked, her eyes rolling over the wide embankments, perfect for pitching a tent.

"Oh no," Maura replied with a shake of her head. "I don't camp."

"How do you not camp?" Jane asked. "There's bugs, leaves, frogs, all the stuff you said you were into as a kid."

"I prefer _dissecting_frogs, thank you," Maura corrected with a laugh. "Not sleeping outdoors with them."

"You are a woman of contradictions, _woman_," Jane said with a laugh, plunging her oar once again into the clear water, wanting nothing more than to plunge into it. The sun shone pleasantly down on them, creating just enough warmth for her to crave a cool, crisp dip.

"Paddle aft!" Maura called back to her, prompting Jane to roll her eyes.

"Maura, we are in a rented canoe. This isn't _20 Leagues Under the Sea_, I don't know what 'paddle aft' means."

"Paddle on both sides back there," Maura clarified, unbothered by her sarcasm. She was, it seemed, unbothered by anything in Dordogne. Since they had arrived, a peaceful smile had rested on her face, her shoulders relaxed, even as she eagerly paddled them forward. "We're going to pull up to that bank, about half a league ahead."

Jane shook her head, chuckling. "You are such a dork."

Maura looked back, her eyes squinting into the sun. "You like it."

Jane nodded, unable to offer a counter-argument. "Yes, I do. I also like how your dork-shaped body looks in that swimsuit you're covering up. Can we dive in soon?"

Maura didn't reply, instead focusing on the bank looming before them, a stone overhang almost completely encasing it. "Here," she said, directing Jane, whose arms were more than adequate to propel them forward, especially after months months of swimming. With a few last paddles, she slid them effortlessly along the damp embankment.

Jane wasted no time in hopping out of the back of the canoe, pulling it further up and helping Maura out of it, the water cool against her ankles. She slipped off her shoes, wading further out, until the water crept up just underneath the hem of her shorts. "It's so quiet here," she commented, her voice echoing off the walls around her. "Come in with me," she coaxed, motioning for Maura to join her.

Maura waded towards her, letting her fingers dip underneath the water. "Do you like it?" she asked earnestly, as if unsure whether the rugged beauty around them had managed to penetrate her partner.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Jane asked, splashing her. "Of course I do."

Maura shrugged, glancing almost shyly at her. "I don't know, I keep thinking one day you'll wake up and realize you want to be with a woman who knows the difference between a curve ball and a slider. Not a woman who gets goose bumps thinking about prehistoric cave drawings."

"What would I do with a woman who's an expert in baseball?" Jane asked. "Then what role would I fill in the relationship?" She laughed, hoping to pull a smile from Maura, curious as to where the sudden insecurity had come from. Nn her mind, she was the lucky one, still floored at how she had managed to hang on to a beautiful woman who could not only change a tire, but also tell you the history of the rubber used to manufacture it.

"You aren't bored with me?" Maura asked.

Jane balked, her mouth dropping open in surprise. "This week of family togetherness must have made you lose your mind." Tossing her hands up in the air, she went further. "Maura, I'm excited just waking up next to you every morning. I like jogging with you, I like watching baseball while you curl up next to me and read those god-awful medical journals with the disgusting pictures. We could be watching moss grow on a log and I'd feel like I'm walking on air, just because I'm with you."

"I _did _make you look at moss on that birch tree yesterday," Maura mumbled, shaking her head.

"And it was _riveting_," Jane emphasized, grinning, wading over to her and putting her arms around her waist. "You liked that behind the scenes tour of Fenway Park, right? And you never would have done that if I hadn't dragged you with me."

Maura nodded, her insecurities somewhat abated, and she reached out for Jane's hand. "I want to show you one more thing," she said, turning and pulling her out of the water towards the rounded stone wall of the overhang. They stopped at a smattering of red along the wall, splotches that looked like burnt, red paint. In the center of them was a hand print, the fingers spread as if someone had high-fived the wall in a fit of excitement.

"Ancient artists blew pigment over their hands as a sort of signature," Maura explained, peering up at it. "This print has been here for thousands of years."

"What?" Jane asked, incredulous as she leaned closer to inspect it. "It looks like it was just done yesterday."

"Isn't it beautiful?" Maura stared, awe struck. "To think that forty-five thousand years ago, we were governed by the same base emotion to prove our existence. Just to preserve the fact that we were here." She glanced up at Jane, suddenly self-conscious as she let out a small smile. "I guess I've always liked connecting with the dead. Even the dead from thousands of years ago."

Jane stood behind Maura, taking her hand and holding it up to the cave wall atop the red pigmented outline. "Your hand is about the size of a Neanderthal," she observed, but then cocked her head as her own hand covered both Maura's hand and the print. "And mine is apparently of the Gianticus Sparticus era."

Maura laughed, leaning back against Jane and pulling her arms around her. They were quiet a moment more, until a small rumble sounded above the barely audible lap of the water behind them. Maura cocked her head, looking up at Jane. "Was that your stomach?"

Jane nodded. "It was either my stomach or a small, dwarf-shaped bear."

Maura chuckled, her head sinking back against Jane's chest. "We should get back," she said noncommittally. "Our mothers are going to be at _Les Pilotes _soon. And it sounds like you're ready for lunch."

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Jane whispered against her hair, her eyes still on the hand print as she showed her appreciation with another small kiss against Maura's temple. "Now, how about that romantic lunch for seven?"

Maura let Jane lead her reluctantly back to the canoe, the two of them rowing silently back towards the rest of their group, where Tommy, Frankie, and Phillip were already waiting along the grassy bank, absorbed in a grating discussion about medieval torture methods. As they returned their canoes along one of the many outfitters posted along the river, Phillip leaned over towards Maura, a playful glint in his gray eyes. "Hand still there?"

Maura looked up at him with a knowing smile, the question a shared joke between the two of them. "Still there," she confirmed.

Phillip nodded, as if relieved. "They just don't make ancient pigment like that anymore."

Jane caught the playfulness between the two of them, smiling to herself as she followed her brothers along the meandering path towards the car. As usual, things probably hadn't worked out exactly as Maura had planned, but it seemed that was for the best. They rode towards Sergeac with the windows down, the river breeze floating over them. The trip was far from quiet, between Tommy and Frankie comparing the castles to everything from Game of Thrones to Lord of the Rings, but there was a certain ease in the way Phillip engaged with them, darting in pieces of factual information like arrows towards the back seat.

Angela and Constance were already waiting for them at a large table along an outdoor patio, but the way the leaned back against their chairs, sipping slowly from tall glasses, Jane imagined they could have waited another couple of hours and not even notice the time passing. They settled in, filling wine glasses and passing around displays of thinly sliced meats and cheeses, rested on fine wooden boards, Jane felt herself getting full. She had yet to perfect the French way of grazing at meals.

Phillip cleared his throat, raising his glass. "If you all don't mind my formality, I'd like to say a few words." Maura glanced over at him, surprised. Her father, as far as she knew, was always a man of few words, but rarely did he venture to deliver speeches unless he were in front of a podium and fellow academics.

"I don't make it a point to get involved in Maura's personal affairs," he said stoically. Realizing his words weren't coming out as expected, he shifted almost nervously in his chair, tossing a quick look at his wife, who smiled encouragingly at him. "What I mean is that I may have missed out on trips like these in the past. But it's been a pleasure to spend time with the Rizzoli... tribe, if you will. The warmth that you all exude for one another and for Maura is quite exceptional, reminiscent of the Angliano tribe of Northern Morocco."

Jane glanced around the table, noticing that only Maura seemed to understand his reference, but judging by her girlfriend's smile, it was at least a compliment, and she smiled over at Phillip.

"Uh, I digress," he continued. "But, I would just like to say _hekaheka_to all of you." He raised his glass and took a quick sip, an awkward smile on his lips, but sincerity in his eyes.

Once again, Maura led the way in guiding the rest of them towards his true meaning. "Cheers," she said with a smile, meeting his glass. Jane joined in, a series of clinks progressing around the table as their glasses met.

"If I may," Angela said, raising a tentative hand in the air.

"Oh boy," Jane sighed, tossing a quick glance at Frankie and Tommy, surprised by her mother's forwardness.

"No family is perfect," Angela began slowly, as if forming her words as she spoke. "And, of course, sometimes things end in ways that you never really imagined." She quieted for a moment, and Jane felt her own father's failures rising as a lump in her throat. "Jane and my boys are the light of my life. And I gotta say, Maura, you make all of them shine even brighter, especially Jane." She complemented her words with a small smile, turning her attention to Phillip and Constance. "You've raised a wonderful girl. Thank you for hosting us and for bringing us into your home."

"Cheers!" Jane called, raising her glass once again in the air. She tossed a quick glance at Phillip. "What was it? HaikuHookah?"

"_Hekaheka_."

"Sante!" Frankie echoed, eliciting a surprised glance from Jane. "What?" he shrugged. "I can learn things too, you know. When in France..."

"... learn all you can from the French girls at the bar," Tommy teased, grinning.

"I think this has gotten away from us," Jane whispered to Maura, raising her glass once again. "Alright, a final cheers, to Dordogne, canoes, and castles."

"Cheers!" Maura offered, raising her glass once again, and prompting one more round of clinks.

As they delved into even more platters of food, Jane turned to Maura, giving her a smile. "How's it going over there, National Lampoon's? You alright with how this day trip turned out?"

She watched as Maura's gaze traveled slowly around the table, taking in the breadth of their combined family, and smiled back at her. "Oui," she said cheerfully, reaching into Jane's lap and taking her hand. "Oui."

* * *

The sun dipped lower across the ocean, and Jane watched it glint across the water as she stood towel drying her hair from the bedroom terrace. After squeezing in a final game of water volleyball with Tommy and Frankie, she was more than exhausted, but the promise of a final sunset in France made her dress quickly and head downstairs.

"Jane, would you like to join us for tea?" Constance asked, peering at her from the kitchen. "Maura and Phillip are outside."

Jane closed the gap between them, glancing out the line of glass windows that showcased the patio and the pool. "Actually, I was thinking of taking Maura on a sunset walk or something. You know, it being the last night and all."

Constance looked up at her, seemingly surprised, but also impressed by the gesture. "Oh, why Jane, that sounds romantic."

"What sounds romantic?" Angela asked, walking into the kitchen and moving immediately towards the kettle, as if preparing tea with Constance was a nightly ritual.

"Jane is taking Maura for a walk along the beach to catch their last sunset here."

Angela placed a hand over her heart, her mouth dropping open. "Oh, what a romantic idea," she gushed proudly.

"So lovely," Constance agreed with a nod, placing a line of tea mugs on a small metal tray. "Absolutely lovely."

Jane put both hands up, overwhelmed by the estrogen-fueled response. "It's just a walk on the beach," she said. "Nothing to get excited about. I'm not proposing or anything." She laughed, but Angela and Constance both peered up at her, staring. "No, really, I'm _not_proposing or anything," she confirmed, suddenly itching to get out of the kitchen.

"Well, you must take some dessert along with you," Constance suggested. "And a bottle of red."

"And a blanket," Angela chimed in, raising a finger.

"Ah, yes," Constance agreed. "There's a tapestry in the hall closet that is perfect for picnics. I'll get it for you." As she passed, she patted Jane on the arm. "Your mother taught you well," she said with an approving nod.

Jane glanced teasingly at her mother. "That's right, you taught me all about those long lesbian walks on the beach."

Angela rolled her eyes, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a small chocolate cake, slicing two small pieces and wrapping them delicately. After a few more moments of watching Angela and Constance swoon over a small picnic basket, which they readily handed over to Jane, she headed outside, feeling more like Goldilocks than Don Juan.

Maura sat next to her father on the patio, a printed page in her lap. "I believe Splantos is an island, not a peninsula," she said, pointing to a paragraph.

Phillip cocked his head. "Technically it is still peninsula."

Maura looked at him thoughtfully. "No, no it's not," she rebutted. "After the tsunami in 2002 the strait flooded, isolating it from the rest of the continent."

"Yes, but according to the Center for Geo Boundaries, it's still classified as a peninsula."

Jane's head flitted back and forth between them, unsure of how long she could follow their conversation before falling asleep on her feet. "I hate to interrupt this engaging debate," she said with a grin. "But do you mind if I borrow Maura for awhile?"

"Not at all," Phillip said, clearing his throat as he peered up at her. "We could go on like this all night."

Maura stood, handing the pages back to him. "It's an island."

"Peninsula."

"Oh, good lord," Jane sighed, grabbing Maura's hand. "I'm saving you both from yourselves."

Maura chuckled, following along behind her, appraising the basket she held. "Don't you look dainty," she said with a smile. "Is that a bottle of wine in your basket or are you happy to see me?"

Jane laughed, tossing a look over her shoulder and catching Maura's self-satisfied expression. "Let me handle the jokes, okay?" she said, leading her down the narrow, grassy path that lead to the beach. She didn't know the foot trails around the house as well as Maura, but she had found one particular spot during an afternoon exploration that she desperately wanted to go back to before they left. Rather than walk along the shore, Jane pulled Maura along another sandy offshoot. "I found a spot the other day while you were busy reading your magazine candy," she explained, raising her voice over the sea breeze. "Of course, Dora the Explorer, I'm sure that you probably have already seen it."

"I haven't seen it with you."

The words warmed Jane despite the nip in the early evening air, and she squeezed Maura's hand. They walked back up shore, along a smaller, rocky path that led to a small ledge overlooking the sandy shore beneath them, the blue expanse of water yawning out beyond it. Jane spread out the blanket as Maura stepped to the edge, inhaling the pre-sunset air.

"I used to come here all the time," she said. "I can't believe this is the place you found."

"It's peaceful, huh?" Jane concurred, settling down on the blanket and stretching her legs out in front of her.

Maura nodded, joining her. "And the underside of the ledge has one of the most extensive displays of lichens I've seen in this area."

Jane gave an uncertain nod, looking about her as if whatever species Maura was referring to was about to join them on the blanket. "Right... that's why I chose it."

Maura nestled closer to her. "It's a symbiotic organism of mycobiont and a cyanobacterium." She caught Jane's blank stare, and explained further. "It's essentially a type of fungus."

Jane scrunched her nose, but waved her hand sarcastically. "See," she insisted. "Tell me I don't know how to do romance."

Maura laughed, peering back out to the sea, which was now burnt with a shade of orange from the setting sun. "I know we haven't had much time alone," she said. "But I really am glad that our families were here together."

"I'm glad our families didn't kill each other," Jane echoed. "Although there was one point today when I thought your dad might tip Frankie and Tommy's canoe."

Maura giggled. "He wouldn't have. My father doesn't have a strong vindictive receptor in his brain." She cocked her head. "He can at times be a bit of a snob."

Jane shook her head, reaching for the wine and pouring two glasses, not surprised that Constance and Angela had remembered to pack them. "He's not a snob. He just knows way too much. He's like you."

Maura raised her glass with a smile. "To more sunsets in Aquitaine."

Jane met her glass with her own, the small clink echoing against the rocks around them. "You know, I used to think nothing would make me want to retire." She glanced down at the isolated shore, a pelican patrolling the rocks. "This, however, this might make me want to pack my bags and move to France."

Maura shook her head. "You'd get bored here."

"Excuse me?" Jane asked, setting her glass down. "I don't think so: pool, beach, warm weather, you in a swimsuit. How would I ever get bored?"

"You're an extrovertis mortalis. You get your energy from other people." She waved out at the empty beach. "And as you can see, there's not much in the way of other people here."

"There's you," Jane said, smiling as she took another long sip of wine. They refilled their glasses intermittently as they watched the sun creep its way closer to the water, finally sinking beneath it. Jane swallowed, setting her empty glass down beside her. The wine, the sunset, or maybe just Maura, was making her a little loopy. "Okay, this isn't going to sound very scientific, but isn't fun to think the sun is just taking a dip in the water and cooling off until morning?"

Maura raised an amused eyebrow at her as she took a last sip of her wine, and for a moment Jane felt a rush of nervousness, as if she'd shared something dumb rather than endearing. But Maura surprised her, setting her glass down and climbing onto her lap, straddling her hips and staring intently at her. "I love what goes on inside that brain of yours."

Jane shrugged. "There's a lot of sports metaphors that go on in here. I doubt you'd love that."

Maura didn't break eye contact as she laughed slightly, but still nodded. "I love that, too." Her eyes were light and glassy from the wine, but her voice held a sobering strength. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jane whispered. "And not just because there's a sun setting behind us and I feel like I'm in a movie. I love you in France, I love you in Boston..." she waved her hand out into the air. "I love you everywhere."

Maura moved in closer, silencing her with a slow, deep kiss, her fingers tussling Jane's windblown ponytail. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were half-closed, but she smiled. "What's going on in that brain of yours now?"

"I don't think I'm thinking with my brain right now," Jane uttered, her hips inching up to meet Maura's.

"Technically, you are. The temporal lobe connects with the nerve endings in the - "

"Oh, shut up," Jane said, reaching upward and pulling her down on top of her. Their lips met again, wine-coated tongues probing against one another. Maura's dress rode upwards, and Jane helped inch it up further, sliding her hands underneath it. Her hands occupied with keeping her balance, Maura let her mouth do the work, grazing her lips along Jane's jaw line and down to her neck before letting them dip further towards her breasts.

"Are we doing this here?" Jane whispered, her hands tentatively caressing the backside of Maura's hips.

With the darkness now descending around them as even more of a cover, Maura had no intention of stopping, and let one hand slide underneath Jane's shirt, finding a bare breast. "Can you think of a better place?" she replied, her voice barely registering over the sway of the tall grasses around them.

"I told you my brain isn't exactly working right now," Jane answered, seeking to silence their banter by switching their positions and pressing her lips to Maura's once again, finding her tongue even needier. Her hands found their way to the fabric between Maura's legs, and she inched her way underneath them, feeling a warmth that was even hotter compared to the chill of the air around them. She wanted to be inside it.

As if reading her thoughts, Maura's hand slid down to Jane's cargo pants, flipping open the button and pushing the zipper down, her own hands seeking the same warmth."Remember, sound carries out here," she whispered breathlessly.

"I don't think I care right now," Jane moaned into her mouth. All she cared about was the feel of Maura on top of her, inside her, around her. She raised only slightly on one arm, wanting to see the woman beneath her. Maura's eyes caught hers and for a brief moment they were beyond words, lost in a world comprised only of senses, sharing the slow build of pleasure until they finally arched into one another, gasping.

As their shudders died, Maura slipped out of Jane, but only to wrap her arms around her, pulling her head down to her shoulder. Jane enjoyed the moment of relaxation, her body fully melting into the one beneath her, both of them still warm from. Her lips began a meditation along Maura's neck, lazily kissing her.

"I see stars," Maura whispered.

"It was good, wasn't it?" Jane murmured, still kissing along her neck.

She felt Maura tap the back of her shoulder. "No, I mean, you can see the stars out here," she laughed as Jane rolled over with a heavy sigh. "But you were good, yes."

Jane laughed sheepishly, but she had little time to be embarrassed, as the stars did seem even more pronounced, the sky a clear canvas for them. "Can we just stay here?" she mumbled into the blonde hair that spilled over her shoulder.

"We could," Maura replied, tilting her head slightly to catch Jane's eye. "But I'm kind of looking forward to going back home with you."

"What, to the cold winter?" Jane scoffed. "I've decided that we have to live in a city where I get the chance to see you in a swimsuit more often. Or at least I'll blast the heat at my place so you're forced to wear things like this." She fingered the thin dress Maura wore.

"Keep your heat as high as you'd like," Maura said with a laugh. "You never stay there anymore."

Jane shrugged, unable to argue. She'd spent most of the past three months at Maura's house, and had even managed to secure a small splice of her closet for a few work suits. She thought for a moment, finally deciding to give voice to an idea that had nudged itself inside her brain before they left for France. "Maybe when we get home, we should talk about... you know... figuring out what makes sense."

Maura's eyes moved towards her. "Are you saying you want to shack in with me?"

Jane laughed. "How can you remember all that medical jargon and not remember simple slang? It's 'shack up', and no, I'm not saying that in so many words. I'm just saying it's something to think about... one day."

Maura nodded, smiling as she returned her gaze to the sky. "You'd have to get rid of that boxing dummy."

"You'd have to make more room in your closet."

"You're the only girl I would ever allow to take over half of my closet space." She grinned, sidling in closer to Jane and laying her head on her chest. "See, going back to Boston isn't so bad. We're just moving onto the next chapter."

Jane smiled, her eyes following a line of stars in the sky. Whatever the next chapter did hold, she was certain that she was marking the end of a long, meandering story whose sole purpose had been to lead her to Maura; now, they could begin writing their own epic together.

* * *

**Well, this has been really fun, mostly thanks to you all. Thank you for reading, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed; it's been a pleasure getting to chat with all of you. Thanks to Cat and Ren for reading through my sporadic drafts. **

**Updates to A Masked Ball, A New Ending, Deconstructing Memory, and Fifty Shades are forthcoming, as well as a brand new story. Until then, there's always Rizzles Moments over on Tumblr. :) **


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